


The Forsaken Ones

by cruisedirector



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Alternate Ending, Anal Fingering, Barely Legal, Death Eaters, Enthusiastic Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, First Time, Fucking, Good Lucius Malfoy, Humor, Light Bondage, Love Confessions, M/M, Malfoy Family, Masturbation, Mentor Snape, Oaths & Vows, Oral Sex, Post - Half-Blood Prince, Pureblood Society, Rimming, Romance, Sarcasm, Second War with Voldemort, Sexual Fantasy, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, Voldemort Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-09
Updated: 2009-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-04 07:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two reluctant Death Eaters are stuck at Spinner's End, bored and frustrated. They decide to cheer each other up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Chosen One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LdyBastet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LdyBastet/gifts).



> Written for Lady Bastet, who betaed the entire story and wrote some of Draco's dialogue. J.K. Rowling made Snape and Draco run off together at the end of _HP:HBP_; this follows quite logically from her scenario, and also, they look hot together. Draco is 17, in case that constitutes underage where you live.

One night, Severus Snape found himself sitting around thinking what a waste it was that although nearly every wizard in Britain considered him the worst sort of villain -- a dark sorcerer, a murderer, a Death Eater -- he had nonetheless spent the past year as celibate as a virgin priestess. For everything that he had done and been accused of doing, he thought he should at least be having wicked, wild sex. Preferably very soon.

Unfortunately, his list of desirable partners offered more frustrations than prospects. Lucius Malfoy was in Azkaban, and Remus Lupin was with Greyback (though not, Snape hoped, _with_ Greyback), and Harry Potter was presently at Hogwarts -- not, of course, that Snape thought seriously about shagging The Boy Who Lived, except that sometimes he did. There were a few other possibilities, since most of the Dark Lord's followers were in Snape's debt for one reason or another, but they were mostly an unappealing lot these days. And Wormtail, who was conveniently ensconced within Snape's house at Spinner's End, wasn't even worth considering except as an absolute last resort.

However, Draco Malfoy was hidden in Snape's cellar, safe and warm and probably very, very bored. Although Draco was the child of his oldest friend -- and of Narcissa, who would come to Snape in tears if she learned of any lascivious behavior toward her treasured only son -- he was still a teenage boy, and a very attractive teenage boy at that, living miserably shut away from others of his age. For Draco, a little lasciviousness might be an act of kindness.

So after sending Wormtail out on a pointless and dangerous mission calculated to take hours, Snape locked all the doors and snuck down to the cellar, where he found Draco lying on his cot playing with his nipples. The younger Malfoy stopped immediately, blushed and tried to pull his shirt closed when Snape crept up on him, but Snape shook his head.

"Idle hands, Malfoy?" he asked. Draco did have very nice nipples and Snape supposed he could not be blamed for playing with them. "Do you need something to do?"

Draco immediately perked up, Snape noticed, in more ways than one. "Is there something you would like for me to do, sir?"

How Snape enjoyed the way Draco called him _sir_! Particularly now that he was no longer young Malfoy's professor. "I've been feeling rather...tense," Snape told the boy, stealing a glance at Draco's muscled chest, hairless except for the dusting of golden curls around those rosy nipples. "Being cooped up in this house, I thought that perhaps you might be feeling...tense...as well."

Snape let his voice trail off, for after this none-too-subtle declaration, Draco was studying him, forgetting to hold his shirt closed and allowing Snape a glimpse of more curls, the ones on his lower body that led down into his trousers. "There must be a potion to cure tension, I could help you with that if you wanted," Draco said with a frown before noticing where Snape's eyes were fixed. "Or there's always shagging."

Snape lowered his brows, for although this remark was delightfully blunt and straight to the point, he still could not be certain that Draco was inviting Snape to shag _him_. "And _are_ you feeling tense, cooped up in this house with me?" he inquired.

"Would I be lying around down here playing with my nipples if I wasn't a little frustrated?" Draco shot back, beginning to remove his shirt altogether.

It was a bit unromantic, Snape reflected, but he had always found ready-and-willing preferable to hard-to-get. He reached over to help Draco, unbuttoning the boy's trousers and allowing a small smirk to cross his face when the head of Draco's already erect cock poked above the waistband of his underwear. Snape raised an eyebrow at this. "You seem very eager. You aren't going to finish before we have properly started, are you?"

With a grin, Draco shrugged. "I might. I am a seventeen year old boy, you know." As if Snape could possibly need any reminder of the age of this delectable specimen! "But the great thing is, I can do it again fifteen minutes later. And fifteen minutes after that."

Snape considered the wisdom of these words. While he was tempted to argue that there was much to be said for quality over quantity, he could not disagree that making Draco come every fifteen minutes was a rather pleasant prospect. "What you're saying," he reflected thoughtfully, "is that I might as well suck you first, then allow you to recover while you are devoting your attention to undressing and preparing me."

Draco looked as if Snape had just given him a birthday present. "Oh, thank you, sir!" he exclaimed, shoving his trousers down his legs and arching his back to present his cock properly to Snape, who sat on the cot and leaned over to take a closer look. It was a fine, thick cock that Snape thought he might enjoy having in his arse at some future date, but not before he had properly shown Draco his place beneath Snape (in every sense).

Despite his unpleasant living conditions, the boy kept himself clean and reasonably well-groomed, and Snape could smell the arousal in the drop of fluid that welled at the tip of his cock. "If you grab my neck or try to shove my head down, I will bite," he warned, tilting his chin and tasting the purplish cock-head, which twitched happily against his tongue.

"N-no, sir...I won't sir..." Draco gasped, though he did arch his back even more, lifting himself closer to Snape's face. Snape did not wish to appear overly eager -- he did not want Draco to believe that he would be manipulated merely out of a desire for sex from an attractive teenage boy, a very attractive teenage boy -- but it had been a long time since he had tasted cock, particularly such a nice one with tight balls below and a firm belly beneath.

Grasping the base in one hand, he engulfed the head of the cock with his lips, sucking and licking the sensitive crown while he stroked up and down the throbbing shaft. "Oh, sir...oh it's good, sir..." Draco gasped, beginning to rock his hips before he recalled Snape's orders to behave himself and made an effort to still them. One hand made its way into Snape's hair, though it did not venture as far as the back of his head, and Snape enjoyed the feeling of the fingers stroking and stuttering as he moved his hand and tongue faster.

It did not take long before Draco was moaning, shifting his hips from side to side to stop himself from thrusting into Snape's mouth. "Oh, I'm...sir, I'm..." _Of course you are_, thought Snape smugly as Draco shuddered and cried out, "Oh, oh, OH!" His hips went still the moment before he convulsed and began to spurt into Snape's mouth. The taste was rather bitter and unpleasant, but Snape swallowed it anyway, feeling nostalgic; it had been just as long since he had swallowed a mouthful of come as it had been since he had sucked cock, which he supposed was to be expected.

Draco was breathing heavily. When Snape glanced up at him, removing his mouth from the softening cock with a sucking noise as he slurped the head clean, the boy's eyes were glazed over. "Ohh, thank you, sir," he panted. Snape gave him a moment to recover, rising to find the secret store of the fine lube he kept among the wine bottles in the cellar, disguised as a particularly poor vintage so that Pettigrew wouldn't get into the stash. Draco was just as delightfully responsive as he had hoped, and he felt certain that this Malfoy arse was as worthy of his best lube as the boy's father's.

When he returned to the cot, Draco was still half-sitting, half lying and gazing at Snape with half-slitted eyes, but now the look was seductive instead of dazzled. "If I had known you liked to suck cock, we could have done this a year ago," he said suggestively.

"A year ago you were my student," Snape said shortly, beginning to tug at the first of the great many buttons on his robes as a means of distraction. He was certainly not going to admit to Draco Malfoy that he had often imagined fucking the young Slytherin in his bed at Hogwarts, or over his desk, or in the potions pantry, or tied to a strut beneath the Quidditch stands.

With a small sigh of regret, Draco reached to help Snape with his clothing. Of course a simple spell would have unfastened all the buttons at once, but Snape enjoyed watching the small furrow of concentration as Draco carefully undressed him, pausing to look at and stroke the skin he exposed before moving from one sleeve to the other and then to Snape's throat and chest.

"I'd have let you fuck me when you were my Head of House," Draco said with a wicked grin. "My father suggested that I neglect no area of my education while I was at Hogwarts and he told me that you were the only teacher at that school worth his stipend. I'm sure you could have taught me a lot."

Snape had to bite back a groan. Putting up with Potter and his obnoxious Gryffindor friends would have been so much easier had he known he had Draco's arse to return to in the evenings! "You seem to have learned certain skills anyway," he murmured as the boy leaned in close to put his lips on Snape's throat, kissing and sucking just beneath his pulse. A pair of curious thumbs found and began to stroke his nipples...clearly Draco had practiced this skill, on himself if no one else.

"Yes, but I've never bottomed to anyone," whispered Draco, sending his cool breath blowing across Snape's ear, so that Snape was unsure whether it was the gust of air or the words themselves that made him shiver. "Of course I shagged whoever I pleased, but I couldn't imagine letting some teenage oaf put his cock in me, and all the men I knew were either teachers or friends of my parents. I always hoped you'd be my first."

There was no way Snape could hold back a groan at that, even though he warned himself again that the boy could be lying, trying to manipulate him. Then again, what did Draco have to gain by manipulating him? The only things in the world young Malfoy wanted were to rescue his father from Azkaban and spare his family the fury of the Dark Lord, and Snape was already his ally in both those goals.

Besides, Draco had no way of knowing that Snape had dreamed of being his first since the boy had entered puberty. "I promise I'll be gentle," he said, even though a part of him wanted nothing more than to thrust into Draco as fast as possible.

"But not too gentle." Draco grinned at him as if he had read the thought, making Snape wonder yet again whether Bellatrix had taught her nephew Legilimency. "I want you to fuck me like you own me."

Snape felt heady, again wondering whether it might be from Legilimency or if it was merely pure lust. Draco was pushing the onetime professor's underwear down his legs and looking at his cock, which was pointing straight at the boy's face. "Would you like me to prepare that for you, sir?" Draco asked. Wordlessly Snape handed him the bottle of potion, watching and trying not to tremble in anticipation as Draco poured some lube into his hands and rubbed them together. He placed one palm on either side of Snape's cock and slowly began stroking them up and down along the length, retracting the foreskin and brushing his fingers over the head.

As excruciatingly pleasurable as it was to be touched this way, Snape knew it could not continue or he would disgrace himself by exploding in Draco's hands...and unlike the teenager, he would not be ready for another go in fifteen minutes. "That will be sufficient," he said, trying not to gasp as one of Draco's hands closed about his cock and squeezed lightly, sliding up and down in the slippery potion. "Give me the bottle and get on your hands and knees."

With an expression bordering on smugness, Draco handed Snape the lube and turned, wiping his hands on a corner of the bed sheet before facing the head of the cot with his arse angled toward Snape. His face had betrayed no nervousness, but when Snape slipped an oiled finger between the boy's buttocks in a direct line from the back of his balls, his breath hitched and his hips jerked forward involuntarily, pulling him away from Snape's hand. "It's going to be difficult to take your innocence if you won't even let me touch you," Snape pointed out. "I've already told you that I'm not going to hurt you."

"Sorry, sir," muttered Draco, settling back in his previous position and spreading his legs a bit more widely, as if to demonstrate his receptiveness.

"If you want me to slow down, you need only tell me so." Again Snape moved his finger along the furrow, finding the tight pucker and teasing it with a fingertip. Again Draco's breath hitched, though this time he drew in a breathy gasp. A moment later his legs moved even further apart and his back arched to invite Snape's explorations.

Snape did not insert the fingertip until he had Draco moaning, already hard again -- the boy was as good as his word -- and whimpering, "More, I'm ready for more." At that the teacher pushed in the finger, feeling Draco tense, then forcibly relax, easing himself down onto the invading digit.

"That's not so bad," Draco muttered. Smirking slightly, Snape bent the finger, probing until he felt the rounded bulge inside Draco. "Ahh!" the boy cried out, tightening and then going slack to push back onto the finger. "Again!"

"Are you giving me orders, Malfoy?" Snape inquired, wriggling his finger inside Draco again and enjoying his moan before the surprised hiss when without warning Snape inserted a second finger. Merlin, this firm young arse was tight! Snape's cock twitched hungrily, eager to bury itself in the longed-for hole. "Relax, and push," he instructed, and the boy obeyed, arching in an effort to make Snape touch him inside in that same spot.

Draco was perspiring, a faint sheen of sweat making his back shine in the dim light of the cellar room. Snape feared that if he made the boy remain on his hands and knees for too long, he would grow uncomfortable in the position. Summoning Draco's pillow, he used an Engorgio charm to inflate it, then pushed it beneath the boy's chest, letting Draco shift his weight forward. In this more relaxed position it was easier to stretch the hole to admit a third finger, though Draco whimpered in protest at first and asked him to stop before calming himself and telling Snape to go on.

"I'm going to fuck you now," announced Snape, kneeling behind Draco and putting a bit more lube on his very eager cock. "I find that it's easier to take the stretch all at once, so I am going to push inside and then withdraw partway." Draco nodded his assent, biting his lip in apparent fear of screaming, and Snape aligned himself before thrusting the thick head of his cock into the still-tight hole, not stopping until he was sheathed halfway inside Draco.

"All right?" he asked.

"I -- oh -- fuck, please move!" Draco begged in a throaty voice that might have been thick with pain or desire or both. Snape obliged him, sliding partway out and back in, reaching beneath the taut body to find the bobbing erection. When he thrust again, he slid his hand up and down the shaft in the same movement, and Draco let out a soft sobbing noise. "Yes, do that, don't stop..."

It was unimaginably arousing to hear young Malfoy speak that way; Snape was very grateful he had put the boy on all fours, facing away from him, so that Draco could not see his face. He did not know how long he could last and pressed up on Draco's hip with his free hand, trying to angle the channel so that he would maximize contact with the sensitive spot inside. He knew he had succeeded when the straining body suddenly tightened and quivered, cock jumping in Snape's hand.

Oh, so hot, so blissfully responsive... "Draco," he groaned helplessly, speeding up his thrusts and the movements of his wrist.

The boy did not even manage to warn him this time; his head flew up, his thighs trembled once, and then he was crying out, very nearly screaming, as he coated Snape's hand and the pillow beneath him with hot come. The internal contractions were more than Snape could withstand, and with a few uncontrollably punishing thrusts, he followed Draco not long after, giving the tight arse its first taste of being filled. He was the one who had to bite his lip this time lest he should cry out his joy, his gratitude, his delight at having been the chosen one for this task.

Grunting, Draco collapsed against the now-wet pillow, giving an uncomfortable wriggle until Snape reluctantly slid his half-hard cock from within Draco's arse and rested it between the buttocks as he slumped over the relaxed body. He did not want to let go of Draco yet, which was somewhat distressing. He had no business getting attached to Lucius' son, no business thinking of this as anything other than a shag to relieve tension and make their lives in this hovel bearable.

"Thank you, sir," Draco whispered. His voice shook slightly, making Snape wonder whether he too was embarrassed or whether he had strained his vocal chords crying out when he came. "Was that...was it good?"

Snape very nearly scoffed that if Draco couldn't tell the answer to that question, he was truly an innocent, but then he realized that whether the boy was asking out of politeness or an arrogant desire to hear Snape admit how much he had enjoyed it, at least it meant that Draco could not read his mind. "Of course it was," he said as dryly as he could manage. "You're very responsive. When you've had more experience, I imagine that you're going to be exceptionally good at this."

Twisting his head, Draco attempted to peer back at Snape over his shoulder. "I don't want to be 'exceptionally good' at it," he objected. "It's not like I'd ever bottom to most people." This cheered Snape far more than he would ever have admitted. "Next time can we do it face to face?"

Next time! Snape hid his smirk against the damp sweet skin between Draco's shoulder blades. "Certainly, if you wish," he agreed, thinking that next time he would need to be certain to close his eyes at the climax. He scarcely trusted himself not to blurt out whatever words came into his head, let alone to silence his thoughts.

Beneath him Draco was wriggling again, and Snape reluctantly slid off his back. Before he could rise from the bed, however, the boy asked hopefully, "Will you stay and keep me company for a while, sir?"

The question surprised Snape, and at the same time he could not keep from smiling. He tried to turn the smile into a knowing smirk, but Draco was already smiling back.

"I suppose that I could do that," he said slowly, lowering himself fully onto the cot. It wasn't as if he had anything else pressing to do, and it would be foolish to let Draco grow bored again so quickly. Besides, the boy had asked so nicely, and called him _sir_ so respectfully, and after all he had chosen Snape for his first time. Reaching out, Snape slipped his arm around the warm shoulders and let Draco curl up against him.


	2. The Undisciplined One

The first time Draco snuck upstairs from the cellar and crept into Snape's room, Snape had every intention of throwing the insolent prat out until Draco kissed him, thus foiling his plans. During their previous encounters, Snape had somehow neglected this particular activity, so although he had enjoyed Draco's talented mouth on many other parts of his anatomy, it came as a bit of a shock to discover that the boy was a delicious kisser.

For a moment it occurred to Snape to wonder who had taught Draco this particular skill, but he soon decided that it was irrelevant, since he had not been properly kissed in he didn't even remember how long. Draco's enthusiasm was quite satisfying, even though it might have been calculated to stop Snape from telling him to go back to his own bed. When Draco finally released his lips long enough for him to speak, all Snape managed to mutter -- and without the proper aggrieved tone -- was, "What precisely are you doing here?"

Aiming an expert silencing charm at the door, Draco straddled Snape's body, letting the older man feel the bulge in his pyjamas that answered the question without much room for confusion. Snape supposed that he should still frown and send Draco away, but the pressure of Draco's erection felt rather pleasant against his own. Besides, they had not had sex in nearly a day and a half -- Snape having been summoned most inconveniently by the Dark Lord -- and apparently deprivation had made Draco reckless. Snape's former student had never before mounted him like this and wriggled so aggressively on top of him. The onetime professor blushed faintly at the discovery that he liked it.

However, Snape could only permit so much insubordination, so when Draco bent to kiss him again, he slid his arms around the boy's back and flipped him over. Moaning as the breath was knocked out of him, Draco wrapped his legs around Snape's and thrust up with his groin to rub their cocks together through their nightclothes. Why, wondered Snape, had he not brought Draco to his bed before this? His miserable room at Spinner's End was so much more attractive adorned by a horny teenager.

"Have you missed me?" he asked Draco smugly, just to hear the response that he knew would be forthcoming:

"Yes, sir! Of course, sir!"

Not for the first time, Snape wondered if there might be a way to prolong the Wizarding war and keep Draco hidden in his house for a good long time. There was, of course, always the risk that Pettigrew would catch them and rat them out to Voldemort, but Pettigrew was so delightfully afraid of Snape and responsive to Confundus charms, and he slept very well at night since Snape had started putting valerian root in his evening tea.

"You aren't supposed to leave the cellar without being summoned, you know," he told Draco. "It could be dangerous."

"I know, but I couldn't stay down there!" Draco leaned up to capture his mouth again. Snape knew that his own lips were rather thin and had wrinkles in the corners, but Draco's firm, pouting lips enveloped and rubbed over them before his tongue slid hungrily into Snape's mouth. Snape sucked on it, feeling Draco's cock twitch in response as if it was being bathed in oral attention instead.

He wondered whether he could make Draco come in his nightclothes like an unruly student who had crawled into his Head of House's bed...not that Snape had fantasized about that, not really, even when Draco was too old to have nightmares and seek comfort from someone who would hold him and pet him while his cock got up to mischief. Naturally there had been a few occasions when Professor Snape had been obliged to enter the Slytherin dormitories and had caught a glimpse of Draco dressed for bed, with his hair mussed and his pyjamas hanging low on his hips, but Snape had never really considered sneaking Malfoy out and chastising him for some imagined misdeed while pressing so close with his thigh that the boy would really have given him something to cluck about...

Retrieving one of his arms from behind Draco's back, he unbuttoned the flannel keeping him from the attractive chest beneath. Draco loved to have his nipples touched and Snape rubbed and tugged at one enthusiastically, letting the moaning teenager thrust against his hip. Snape's own time as a student at Hogwarts had unfortunately been rather lonely, but there had been a few happy occasions when younger, handsomer Regulus Black had crawled into his bed and they had practiced kissing until they soiled their pyjamas. Rubbing up against Draco like this made him sentimental.

Lowering his head, he sucked at the other nipple while Draco groaned and tried to push at his shoulders. "Oh -- sir -- stop -- " Snape closed his hand around the bulge beneath the fabric, stroking it rapidly as he tugged at the nipple with his teeth, and was rewarded with a wail, followed shortly by a grunt and the feeling of warm wetness spreading in the cloth beneath his hand. "Ohh," Draco groaned again. "I used to wish that you'd do that, in the dungeon...come to my bed and make me come and then disappear, so I'd never know if it was real or a dream..."

Merlin, but the boy himself was better than any wet dream Snape had ever had, even the one where he had done just what Draco had imagined and then tampered with his memory so Draco couldn't tell, which admittedly would have been unethical. "Shh," he said rather crossly to hide his affection. He had never done that, nor slipped any love potion into Draco's pumpkin juice, but thoughts were free, except during that miserable period when he had been teaching Potter Occlumency and had had to waste hours painstakingly removing all of the erotic fantasies from his mind. "I had no idea you had such naughty thoughts when you were a student. I might have made some effort to teach you to discipline yourself."

"You can discipline me, sir!" Draco announced enthusiastically. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his damp pyjamas, he pushed them down and kicked them off, wriggling against Snape's by-now-aching erection. "You can give me the pounding I deserve!"

"Fucking you would seem to be more reward than punishment," objected Snape, though not very strongly because Draco was already putting his hands on Snape's own pyjamas and tugging them down his thighs. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could make me suck you," Draco began. "You could tie me to your headboard. You could sit over my face and wank..."

"I could put you over my knee and give you a spanking."

"Ooh! Would you really?"

Clearly, Snape had become a failure at discipline. "I could Scourgify your nightclothes and send you back to your own bed," he reminded Draco, whose face fell momentarily before he realized that of course Snape wasn't serious -- he wasn't about to let Draco leave while his cock was so stiff. "But I suppose that, if you leave, you might only come back later and put yourself at further risk. I have no choice but to keep you here."

"No choice," Draco echoed firmly. "And since I _am_ here, sir, if you don't mind my saying so, I could do something about this..." His fingers trailed lightly up and down Snape's erection. "You could put it in my mouth, or in my..."

"I am perfectly aware of all the places it will fit," announced Snape loudly, needing to silence Draco before the boy's wicked words and wicked hands distracted him thoroughly and made him suggest something truly dangerous like letting Draco come inside him. "Are you quite recovered from the last time? I'm afraid that I've been giving your arse NEWT-level trials."

"It's been almost two days!" Draco reminded him indignantly. "I've practically regained my virginity. Anyway..." For a moment the blond looked shy, and slowly licked his lips. "If you're worried about it, you could always give it a kiss."

The nerve of the boy! Snape narrowed his eyes. "That is not an activity to rush into unprepared. Are you clean?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Draco indignantly. "Do you think I would have come here if I wasn't prepared? I Scourgified myself, and I used some of that potion with the alcohol in it, too. Stung like a stinging hex, I'm never doing that again, but I am absolutely clean!"

Snape had winced involuntarily when Draco mentioned the potion. "It really isn't necessary...plain soap will do," he said shortly. "I suppose that if you put yourself to all that trouble, I should make it worth your while."

"_Thank_ you, sir!" Draco flew up at him, putting his arms around Snape's neck and kissing him again. It was becoming very tempting to agree to whatever Draco wanted so long as these humble expressions of gratitude and kisses would follow. Snape allowed his hands to wander over the smooth young flesh, thinking that when Draco had not been not lying on his back staring at the ceiling in his confinement in the cellar, he must have been doing stretching exercises and sit-ups; his muscles were as firm as ever.

Smacking the taut round buttocks once, Snape said, "Lie down flat. Put my pillow under your hips and spread your legs." His pillow would, of course, be somewhat the worse for wear after this, but Snape expected to enjoy putting his face in it the next night while waiting for Draco's inevitable return. He shifted to make room for Draco to obey his orders, retrieving a small vial of sweet oil from the table beside the bed and wetting the tip of a single finger with it. When the boy was lying spread out like a feast for him, shifting his hips from side to side in anticipation, Snape pressed the finger against the tight hole that was learning to quiver for him in anticipation rather than fear.

"Oh, sir," moaned Draco. "Oh, _sir_..." And this from just a fingertip! Draco had the most responsive arse that it had ever been Snape's pleasure to bugger. He gave his own throbbing cock a brief squeeze to calm it before bending his head to lick the base of Draco's spine, earning another eager noise. His tongue slid into the crack between the luscious buttocks and down, squeezing the warm globes tighter around it with his hands, until he came to the wrinkled spot that made Draco cry out in anticipation. "Sir," he moaned again, trembling, as Snape took the first long lick over the surface of that tight little hole.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Snape gave Draco his first experience with having his arse licked and Draco gave Snape the most gratifying response he had ever received to this particular act, sobbing his appreciation, shuddering and quaking and clawing at the sheets, begging him for please just a little more _oh sir_ while Snape enjoyed the delicious softness inside the ring of muscle and the tensing and relaxing of the pucker that tried to kiss him back. "Oh sir, oh sir," Draco chanted, rocking forward and back, thrusting himself into Snape's pillow. It was time to stop -- to fuck the boy before he came again and needed a few minutes to recover that Snape's cock did not wish to give him -- yet Snape was sorry to tear his lips away from Draco's wonderful young arse.

"Open me," begged Draco, reaching back to hold his buttocks apart while Snape oiled his fingers and slid two of them in -- he did not wish to risk ruining the experience by trying to take the boy too quickly, failing to prepare him properly. He fucked Draco with his fingers, enjoying the way the channel tightened and flexed for him, stroking the firm bulb of the prostate and thinking what a good thing it was that the entire house as well as his room had been charmed to muffle Draco's cry. "YES!"

No man could be expected to restrain himself after that, and Snape spent only a few seconds oiling his cock before burying it deep in that welcoming heat. The angle was different with Draco lying on the pillow and Snape was grateful not to have to worry about shoving him off his knees into the headboard. He fucked Draco hard with his arms braced against the boy's sides and his hands balled on the mattress, vaguely aware that Draco was stroking himself underneath but unable to let that rhythm disrupt his own. He needed to come too badly, he had been driven mad by that magnificent arse and all the shameless sobbing and pleading and cries of surrender.

Despite his single-mindedness, there was no way that Snape could fail to notice when Draco began to come, clenching around his cock and thrashing on the pillow with a wordless shriek. Grabbing the hips to hold them still, he gave Draco precisely the pounding he deserved, thrusting in so hard that his groin slapped Draco's buttocks. When he finally spurted deep inside the hot passage, he gasped, "Draco! Ahh!"

The subject of his exclamation, who was lying limp and exhausted on his pillow with his wet hand curled beside his face, turned his head and smiled when the older man finally fell still. "You fuck me harder in your bed than mine," he observed sleepily. "From now on I think we should do it here."

Snape had not caught his breath sufficiently to protest. Reaching up, he pulled Draco's hand toward his face, sucking on one of the damp fingers. As always, the come was bitter, but Draco's skin was salty-sweet beneath and anyway Snape intended to kiss away the taste.

"That's nice," Draco sighed. "You're a little bit of a pervert, aren't you?"

"I'm not the one who asked someone to lick my arse," Snape reminded him huffily.

"No, you're the one who _licked_ my arse!" Any protest Snape might have offered died on his lips when Draco craned around to try to kiss him. Sliding out of the arse and off Draco's back, Snape reached for his wand, cleaned the sheets, the pillow and the two of them, then settled into Draco's embrace to kiss him back properly.

Draco was already drifting to sleep, letting his eyes flicker open and shut as he lay warm and sweet and drowsy in Snape's bed. "I suppose that I had better let you stay here, so you don't fall down the stairs," Snape told him, yanking the pillow free and placing it up by their heads.

"I suppose that you should," agreed Draco happily. "Then we can do it again in the morning without having to sneak around on the stairs."

As the boy snuggled closer, Snape reflected that letting him stay was likely as dangerous as making him leave. But sometimes, Snape thought, a wizard must be entitled to take a few risks. Like letting Draco Malfoy kiss him. Like pretending not to hear when Draco, already dreaming, purred contentedly as Snape stroked his back and murmured, "Mmm, Severus." Like falling asleep wrapped up in the arms of someone who should have been off-limits for a great many logical reasons...not one of which Snape could remember just now.


	3. The Susceptible One

A warm mouth woke Snape. It felt like something of an annoyance moving down his side, and he pushed irritably at the body to which it was attached. But when it ducked down and engulfed the head of his cock, already half-hard with his morning erection, he decided not to interfere with such an obviously needy impulse to suck.

Draco had either grown more brazen with his demands or more desperate for contact -- Snape wasn't certain which. Climbing into his bed uninvited, blatantly asking for sexual favors, and now this -- the boy was pushing Snape's legs apart, easing his chest between them as if he intended to spend the morning comfortably performing fellatio -- this was not behavior to be encouraged. Yet Snape did, in fact, encourage it, settling his hands in the soft blond hair, tensing his buttocks to thrust upward into that warm mouth...

Draco hummed softly, stroking Snape's balls, and Snape forgot that he was supposed to be the one controlling this encounter. From the angles of his head on the pillow and Draco's against his body, he could only see the forehead and fine jutting cheekbones, but he had the impression that Draco looked relaxed, even content. The arm upon which the younger man rested his weight was folded beneath Snape, hand resting in a warm curve against his buttock, while the other hand was caressing him intently, even though Snape knew his scrotum was loose and furry compared to Draco's firm, nearly hairless balls. He bent his leg slightly, allowing the hand better access, and could not help groaning when a finger stroked over his perineum.

Draco's answering hum sent vibrations pulsing through Snape's groin. The delicious mouth was making quiet wet noises as it moved up and down and Draco's tongue kept flicking over the exquisitely sensitive spot beneath the piss-hole as if something tasted particularly good there. Snape shuddered softly, wondering how long he could hold out against such an assault, and as he did so, the finger behind his balls slipped, or maybe was pushed, over the surface of his arsehole. When Draco hummed again as if this discovery pleased him, the buzzing sensation traveled all the way down Snape's groin.

"I'm going to ejaculate if you keep doing that," he warned rather breathlessly.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing." Draco's mouth had lifted momentarily from his cock, though the finger continued its wicked movement, nudging at the pucker and making it twitch and purse. Yet it was the smile on Draco's face that made Snape groan and jerk his hips upward. The boy looked simply happy, not conniving or seductive; evidently he was enjoying himself, rocking his own hips to press his cock into the bed somewhere below. The smile was still on Draco's face as he touched the tip of his tongue to the tip of Snape's cock, then licked slowly down and up the length before beginning to suck again.

There was no help for it: he knew he was going to fill that sweet young mouth with come, even as Draco nudged a fingertip into his arse, damp only with Snape's own sweat, wriggling it in a way that felt very dirty to get it inside comfortably. "Draco," Snape moaned to caution him, but he found that saying the name actually excited him even more, and he let his head thrash on the pillow as he continued to mutter, "Draco...oh...Draco..."

The hummed reply was half an acknowledgment, half an expression of pleasure, as Draco's thumb stroked behind Snape's balls and tongue tasted his cock and finger burrowed deeper, aided by Draco's free hand which gently tugged Snape's buttocks more widely apart. "Draco...yes..._fuck_..." He was on the verge of saying too much, and he bit down on his lower lip just as Draco made a happy chuckling sound around his cock. And just like that, Snape's control burst. He very nearly levitated off the bed in the frenzy of thrusting and clenching and coming that followed.

Draco was polite enough to continue to make pleased noises even as he swallowed around the sensitive spurting cock-head, and his fingers held still, putting just the right amount of pressure on the balls and skin and quivering hole. When Snape was finally lying still, hoping that he hadn't cried out quite as loudly as he suspected, the tongue that had brought him to this state licked the head of his cock clean while the hand withdrew and wiped itself discreetly on the sheet before Draco looked up at him again, flushed with accomplishment.

"Did I do that acceptably, sir?" he asked with only a trace of naughtiness.

"I should deduct points for poking at my arse without proper lubrication," Snape retorted with as much disparagement as he could muster, which wasn't much. He had the dreadful suspicion that he was glowing.

"Then I'll get some lubrication," said Draco agreeably, crawling up to rest on Snape's chest while his hot, erect penis prodded insistently against Snape's thigh. Snape supposed it was to be expected that of course the boy wouldn't let an older man catch his breath before demanding to be serviced in kind, and was about to say so when Draco's hand shot out, grabbing his wand. "Accio lubrication!"

"What do you think you're...!" But the answer to that question was already quite obvious as Snape's top dresser drawer popped open and a bottle came flying over to the bed. "You can't possibly believe that I intend to let you fuck me now!"

"Do you need a few minutes? I forget sometimes it takes you longer than it takes me." The expression of innocence was so obviously false that Snape scowled fiercely, but Draco only smiled again. "Actually, I thought now was the perfect time. You're relaxed, I'm horny, and neither one of us will care if I only last thirty seconds."

"Malfoy, I'm afraid that you seem to be missing the point. You will not be fucking me. Not now, not ten minutes from now..."

"Come off it, Severus! You loved having my finger in you. You want to feel my cock in you. And I want that too."

Snape was spluttering his outrage as loudly as possible. He dared not let Draco guess the real reason he was turning red and trembling, which was that the insufferable prat was right. "You will not address me in that manner! You will not make assumptions about what I want, or what I find acceptable, and you will not..." Draco had slid up Snape's body and was nudging his cock into the crevice between his buttocks. "...you will not do that!"

"I'm already doing it." Closing his eyes, Draco moaned softly. With his moist lips parted and his damp hair clinging to his forehead, he looked like edible temptation. "I think you like it, Severus..."

The silky cock-head brushed over Snape's arsehole just then, tricking him into moaning, and Draco's mouth came down on his before he'd managed to close it, kissing him into submission. Snape struggled feebly but there was no escaping those soft lips and that probing, demanding tongue. He attributed his weakness to having been awoken so early, and so...well, "rudely" was perhaps the wrong word. Perhaps he meant "abruptly."

To Snape's further vexation, he was also becoming aroused again. His cock had not yet sprung up -- it would take several more minutes and some direct friction to accomplish that -- but he was experiencing a familiar increase in his breathing and pulse, plus his throat felt constricted. It was, he supposed, only reasonable that he should grow a bit excited from the thought of a relatively inexperienced young cock pumping in and out of his arse, but he feared that he had already revealed too much of his enthusiasm to Draco, whose mouth had traveled from Snape's lips to his ear, where he was licking and murmuring what sounded suspiciously like endearments.

"What was that?" he demanded, though it sounded unfortunately like a plea.

"I said, 'I like waking up with you like this.' Ohh!" Snape's attempt to tell him to stop saying things like that turned into a groan of surprise when Draco shuddered, grunted and poured hot come over Snape's arse and the back of his thigh, as if the mere thought of sucking Snape awake had been enough to push him over the edge. Draco panted on top of him for a few seconds, then grinned down -- not in the least embarrassed at having gone off like a teenager, which, after all, Draco was -- and leaned in for a kiss. "Didn't feel like waiting. Now we can do this properly."

"With you on the bottom," Snape agreed. It was much safer that way, even if his arse was very slightly disappointed at learning that it was not to be filled by fine burgeoning cock. The boy was proving himself more dangerous by the minute. "Since you clearly cannot set the pace for both of us..."

"Bet I'm hard again before you are," retorted Draco, cutting off any reply by kissing Snape yet again. His fingers threaded through Snape's hair to stroke it, and although Snape was rather more accustomed to bed partners who pulled his hair to make him arch up more or yanked carelessly while he was on his knees servicing them, he had to admit that it felt agreeable -- enticing, even. Snape did not think he had ever met anyone who liked to kiss as much as Draco did; he wondered whether the younger Malfoy was simply a hedonist like his father and behaved so shamelessly with everyone or whether Draco was showing Snape a side of himself that he usually kept hidden.

In any event, the firm body with its fresh young muscles did indeed spring back to a state of provocation remarkably quickly, and Snape found himself squirming as Draco's damp cock stiffened and prodded at his belly. "Tickles," Draco snickered, running his fingers through the wiry curls and coaxing Snape's half-recovered penis to grow plump for him again. "Would you mind rolling over, Severus? I want this in my hand when I come."

"Malfoy," groaned Snape. It was very difficult to think clearly when Draco said things like that, sounding not only reasonable but terribly enthusiastic. "I've already told you I object to your speaking to me in this manner. If you require sex, I insist that you adhere to our previous arrangement..."

"Where you come down to the cellar and fuck me? You can't be serious. Aren't you getting bored with that?" When had Draco learn to stroke him so expertly? "Admit it -- you like it when I surprise you. I'm better than you bargained for, aren't I? Aren't you even a little bit curious to know what it would be like to have me inside you? If you don't like it, we don't ever have to do it again."

Spoken like a true Slytherin, though Snape was certain that if he did agree and did not like it, Draco would just come at him with some other method of persuasion the next time. Perhaps, he thought, he could use this as leverage...he had wanted to ask Draco to sit on his cock and ride him, so that Snape could look up and watch him playing with his nipples and wanking, but had thought it imprudent to admit to such a wish. Draco's hands were already exploring behind his balls again, this time properly lubricated, and Snape could not stop himself sinking onto a probing finger, groaning at the triumphant grin on the face of its owner.

"I knew you wanted that," Draco said. "I mean, you'd have to be mental not to."

"You have a -- very high -- opinion -- of your -- oogh," Snape burbled, trying not to shove his hips down too eagerly as Draco slid the finger in and out.

"No, I just know where to find this." The finger bent and prodded upward, and Snape called out harshly as he bent his knees to give Draco better access. "And you're actually queer, aren't you? Not fucking me just because I'm a Malfoy."

While Snape was trying to decide whether or not he should object to that, Draco bent down and licked around the finger, at which point Snape decided that he was not going to worry anymore about what Draco thought or why Draco was doing what he was doing until he had quite a bit more evidence. "Don't stop," he ordered, pulling up his legs even more shamelessly and holding them there with his hands. In his capacity as the boy's teacher, he supposed that he really ought to offer some instruction, but Draco was performing with such natural initiative and native talent that Snape wasn't certain it would be wise to interfere even if he could have gotten out words besides "yes" and "more" and "good" and Draco's name.

When the tongue had been inside Snape for several blissful minutes while his cock leaked steady drips onto his belly, Draco lifted his head and sat back. "Turn over," he directed Snape, who did not have the heart even for the token resistance he would have put up otherwise. Draco picked up the little bottle again, then pushed two fingers into Snape, awkwardly attempting to scissor them. "You're so tight. I thought maybe this got looser as you get older, like your balls."

"Keep your ignorance to yourself," Snape spat, feeling his face heat. Although it was sweet to remind himself of Draco's youth and beauty, it was not nearly so pleasant to be reminded of his own age.

Kissing his back, Draco insisted, "I didn't mean it like that. I like your balls. They're big and hairy, not like some kid's. I'm not going to hurt you if I fuck you, am I?"

Snape peered over his shoulder. "You _have_ done this before?" he asked sharply.

"Yes! Just," Draco looked slightly shamefaced. "I don't really know whether I'm any good at it. It's not like anyone I've done it with would ever tell me I'm less than wonderful."

Sighing slightly, unsure whether to be relieved or sorry, Snape said, "I have no lofty expectations. A high level of effort is always rewarding."

"I'll keep that in mind." Shuffling closer and removing his fingers, Draco pushed his cock bluntly at Snape's arse, which was now so slippery that the shaft overshot the hole and slid up between his buttocks. "Sorry. I'm nervous, with you."

Why did Malfoy insist upon telling him such things? "Stop fussing about and fuck me," Snape said with what patience he could muster.

"I want you to like my...unnh!" This time Draco had managed to push the head of his cock inside Snape's arse, which seemed to distract him as much as Snape. He had shoved the thick rod halfway in before it occurred to him to pause so that Snape could adjust. "Is that...?"

"Yes," panted Snape, who had practically bitten off his lip trying not to shout as Draco impaled him. "You can move."

"Oh!" With a grateful exclamation, the boy sank deep, squeezing Snape's hips as if he needed support. "Sir!"

Then, without pausing to let Snape catch his breath, Draco began to fuck him. It was erratic and fast and, when Snape did not protest, increasingly hard; clearly finesse was not one of young Malfoy's strengths. On the other hand, it was merciless and fervent, and when Draco fumbled beneath Snape, wrapping a slippery hand around his cock with a moaned, "I want to make you come, tell me how to make you come again," the older man lifted a clenched fist from the mattress to cover Draco's, moving the fingers up and down on himself. It was so much better wanking into Draco's hand than his own, and he gave voice to the moans he had been trying to swallow as discomfort turned to delight.

"Can't...last," Draco grunted behind him. "Please come, want to feel it coming out of you before I let go!"

Snape concluded that he would, indeed, have to be mental to resent such a request. He sped his hand atop Draco's until he very nearly surprised himself spurting over their fingers and onto the mattress. With a long groan, Draco sank deep as Snape clenched around his cock. The boy convulsed, bending over his teacher and emptying his balls within him.

It was an absolute certainty that Draco would slump over Snape's back, wrap his arms around him and draw him down to the bed in his arms; Snape did not even attempt to resist. Of course the boy was needy. He had not seen his parents in months, had had to flee his friends, spent most of his time hiding in Snape's basement dreading the future, and Snape was not even at liberty to explain his plans to secure their freedom and keep the Dark Lord at bay. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he inquired, smirking when his query met with a happy purring sort of noise.

"You know I did. You knew I would. Did _you_ enjoy it?" Reluctantly Snape gave a short nod, at which he felt Draco's arms tighten around his body. "I wanted you to. Not like you think, because I want you to let me do it again -- I don't care about that," Draco added hastily. "I just wanted to show you...look, I know how much you've done for me."

Snape was not entirely certain what his onetime pupil was talking about, but a dreadful suspicion began to creep over him. "Don't deceive yourself into thinking this is anything more than sex," he warned.

"I wish you'd stop saying things like that. I know you want me to think it's just because of my parents, or because Dumbledore would want you to help me..." Involuntarily Snape flinched at the Headmaster's name. He had steeled himself to be able to listen to it from Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but he recoiled at hearing it from the mouth of the boy who had been indirectly responsible for Dumbledore's death. And Draco, who was wrapped around him so intimately, couldn't help but notice his reaction. "Look, I've been thinking about this. I know you liked him a lot and you didn't want to do what you did. I know you did it for me."

Snape grew very still. Perhaps it had been wrong to tell the boy so little, for the conclusions he had reached were potentially even more dangerous than the truth. "It isn't that simple..." he began.

"Severus." Draco's voice was sweet and adoring -- a tone in which Snape had never heard his own name spoken, and it made his skin prickle. "You took a vow to protect me -- you didn't do that for my father in prison or my aunt you can't stand to be around. And you kil-- you took care of Dumbledore for me, not because you wanted to. I know."

Firm hands were pushing at Snape's hips, rolling him over until he was facing Draco, who put his arms around his neck. The boy's eyes were wide and bright, his cheeks were flushed and his lip trembled. Snape felt a spike of panic in his gut. "Draco..." he tried urgently to interrupt, but an impassioned voice spoke over his.

"And you hid me here. I know how dangerous that must be, with Wormtail around -- I know the risks you've taken, Severus. But since you've had me here, you've done even more. You came to my bed, and you let me in yours."

"Malfoy. Listen to me. You don't understand..." Trying to snare the boy's full attention, Snape took Draco's face between his hands, but the infuriating creature leaned in and kissed him ardently. By the time he let Snape up, his entire face was beaming.

"I do understand. You don't have to say anything. I know you hate talking about all this stuff. I just wanted to tell you. I know you love me. It's all right. I love you too."

And as Snape lay gabbling, futilely shaking his head and demanding to be heard, Draco slipped from the bed and shrugged into his robe. "I'd better sneak back down to the cellar before Pettigrew wakes up," he grinned. "I'll see you tonight, Severus."

"Draco! Wait -- "

"Shh." Blond hair falling into his eyes, which were still as unnaturally bright as his cheeks were flushed, Draco winked at him. "Later." His hand was already on the door, turning the handle, letting him escape silently into the hallway.

With a groan of despair, Snape lay back, covering his eyes. _Fuck._

Now what was he going to do with the boy?


	4. The Capitulating One

Snape's intention was to Apparate to Spinner's End directly from the gathering of Death Eaters, march down the steps to the cellar and clarify certain matters for Draco Malfoy. Specifically, he planned to explain that he was not in love with Draco and Draco was not in love with him, and moreover that it was probably best if all intimate contact between the two of them ceased immediately, except in case of dire emergency.

Unfortunately, the Dark Lord was in a particularly vicious mood, so Snape was forced to witness the use of the Cruciatus curse on several of his fellows -- and even though at this point he felt primarily contempt toward all of Voldemort's followers, it was still a distinctly unpleasant experience. For this reason, perhaps, he did not stride into the dank room in the cellar as assertively as he had intended, nor sit Draco down and lecture the boy on his inappropriate and demeaning behavior as quickly as he should have.

In fact, Snape found himself in a most unpleasantly compromised position when Draco flung himself forward, greeted Snape with an extravagant embrace, then pulled back with a fretful expression and asked, "What's wrong? Did something happen with _him_? He hasn't done anything to my father, has he?"

"It's nothing of the sort; your father is still safe in Azkaban, out of the Dark Lord's reach," Snape replied without thinking. Draco's fingers in his hair and lips against his cheek had already become an unendurable distraction. "Stop this..."

But it was too late, for Draco was already pulling him toward the small bed, stroking his shoulders and urging him to sit. "But something _is_ wrong," he insisted. "You're tense. You're angry. What's happened?"

"Nothing that concerns you!" The anger in Snape's voice finally got through to Draco, who sat back to look at him with concern before aiming his wand at a bottle of whiskey he had evidently stolen from Snape and pouring them each a drink. "Stop fussing at me like..."

He stopped himself in horror, for he had almost said "like you're my wife," which was _not_ an idea he wanted to put in Draco's mind. Instead he pulled out his own wand, stoppered the bottle and whirled on the boy, who was looking up at him uncertainly. "We need to have a talk."

Draco glanced from Snape's face to the glasses and back, wearing a calculating expression before he broke into a small smile. "Wouldn't you rather talk later?" he asked in a voice full of lewd suggestiveness.

"No, I would not!" Snape announced too loudly, because the truth was that he would much rather have fucked Draco into the mattress and _then_ told him all the reasons that submitting to such rapture was unwise. However, Snape knew well enough that once they started, his former pupil was likely to distract him even further, and then who knew when he would be able to deliver his lecture? "You are not staying at my house to enjoy yourself. You will sit still and pay attention."

"Yes, sir." Draco sat very stiffly at attention, hands folded in his lap, eyes lowered; it took Snape a moment to realize that the prat thought this was a game. "What is it that you wanted to _talk_ about, sir?"

"This..." sputtered Snape, waving his arm about wildly. It was impossible not to notice the dismal state of the tiny room as he did so. Snape had been locked in the cellar by his father more than once during his childhood, usually for performing some magical act of which the Muggle man was incapable, and the recollection made him recall that for a spoiled child like Draco who had grown up in the Malfoys' splendid manor in Wiltshire, living like this must be nearly unbearable. Taking a deep breath to regain his control, Snape tried to speak reasonably.

"I am sure that you feel you have lost everything." Draco glanced up sharply at him. "Even though you still seem to fail to understand the gravity of your situation should the Dark Lord discover your whereabouts...you are alone, unable to speak to your friends, uncertain whether you will see your parents again." The boy's expression tightened and his mouth pulled into something like the sneer that Snape had often seen him turn on other students of his year. "I can see that you must feel alone. Perhaps you have convinced yourself that I am all you have..."

Abruptly Snape found his arms once more full of Draco Malfoy -- a more aggressive Draco Malfoy than the demonstrative boy who had greeted him so affectionately when he arrived home. "You're just making excuses," Draco hissed in his ear, biting down on the lobe as he dragged Snape onto the bed with him. "I know you're afraid for me. I'll be careful. I stayed down here all day..."

"This has nothing to do with whether or not I'm afraid for you!" Pulling back, Snape saw victory in the wide blue eyes and narrowed his own dark ones. "Allow me to be blunt. You are very young. Obviously you have confused sex and love."

"I'm not the one who's confused, Severus..." Draco started to say.

"Silence! You will cease to address me by my given name. You will cease to come to my room, to embrace me or to take other liberties. I don't know whether you hope to manipulate my sympathies or whether you actually believe yourself to be -- "

"In love?" Draco supplied helpfully.

Wrinkling his nose, Snape continued, " -- but in either case, you will not succeed in changing the rules. From now on, you will obey my restrictions."

"Or what? Or you won't fuck me anymore?" The voice was not defiant precisely, but certainly doubtful. Draco was still lying very close to him on the narrow bed, pressing their lower bodies together, and now he winked. "Yes, sir. I'll be a good boy, sir. What can I do for you tonight, sir?"

Being ignored so utterly was infuriating! Did the boy believe that Snape meant the opposite of what he said? Was he conveying unintentional irony? Snape was certain that Draco could not know how badly he wanted to dive on top of him, press him down and grind against him until they had both become too befuddled to talk. "I don't much like your tone," he warned.

"No?" A hand reached down and squeezed Snape's cock through his robes. The cock was unluckily rigid, a regrettable side effect of Draco's exuberant greeting. "You do a lot of complaining, Severus, but _somebody_ here likes me. Why don't you lie back let me talk to _him_?"

Although Snape found it puerile to the extreme to have his cock addressed as a separate entity, it chose that ill-timed moment to behave like one, twitching happily against the pressure of Draco's fingers. "You aren't listening to a thing I've said!" Furiously, Snape gripped his wand, sending thin, snakelike cords shooting from the end to twist around Draco's wrists, binding them together.

At first Draco's eyes went wide with astonishment, but then a delighted grin crossed his face. "I hoped you'd tie me up!" he exclaimed. "When I was at Hogwarts, I used to walk past your rooms thinking that maybe you'd catch me snooping and put me in a..."

"_Silence!_" As the word fell from his lips again, Draco became blissfully quiet. Sadly, this proved to be a mixed blessing, for Draco misunderstood Snape's reasons for wanting him to stop talking and dove forward, kissing him on the mouth. Those warm, soft lips managed to draw a groan from Snape before he recovered his senses and drew back from them, but the damage had been done, and Draco tried to follow with a dreamy expression, pursing his lips to try to kiss Snape again.

This outrageous behavior had to stop at once. "Malfoy!" barked Snape. "I have given you your last warning. You _will_ do as I say."

"Of course, sir," grinned Draco, lunging forward and knocking Snape off balance even though his wrists were bound. "You know I only want to please you, sir. I'll do anything you say, sir..." He stopped speaking again only because his mouth had fastened on to Snape's throat, sucking eagerly at the skin.

That was it, then. Snape had no choice but to punish him now, even though provoking the former Head of House into punishing him had seemed to be Draco's intention. Snape's hand twitched involuntarily. Ever since Draco had responded with fervor to Snape's threat of a few days previously to put Draco over his knee and give him a spanking, Snape had been imagining excuses; how delightful it would be to spread the boy across his lap where he could feel Draco's cock against his thighs, bare those pale buttocks and smack them to a rosy pink with his hand. He grew achingly hard just thinking about it.

Perhaps, Snape told himself, he should avoid the temptation that bum represented and punish Draco in some less tantalizing manner. But Snape was after all a very frustrated man -- a man who had had to turn on his colleagues so that he could pretend to support their enemy, a man who had never received sufficient erotic attention from any of the more desirable Death Eaters or this Slytherin's father or even that werewolf he despised really apart from wanting to shag. Now the student he had scarcely dared let himself fantasize about was deliberately taunting him, teasing him, tormenting him, torturing him...how could Snape possibly have continued to present himself as a follower of the Dark Lord if he did not make some concession to this wickedness?

Shoving Draco to the side, Snape sat up, letting his feet settle on the floor. After a moment he kicked off his shoes, then unfastened and removed his trousers and underpants, deciding that if he was going to go through with the spanking, it only made sense for him to avoid any possible damage to his clothing. Draco watched eagerly, trying to pick open his own trousers, but with his wrists tied together this proved to be impossible. "What do you think you're doing?" Snape asked him.

"Getting undressed. Aren't you going to fuck me?"

"I am not," Snape told him as coldly as he could. He hoped that Draco could not see his flushed cheeks and the erection he was trying to keep from poking up between his legs. "Get up and stand next to me."

Squirming to the edge of the bed, Draco tipped himself upright, smirking down at Snape as the older man opened and yanked down the boy's trousers -- not altogether surprisingly, he wore nothing underneath. The luscious young cock sprang up, making Snape's mouth water, but his own cock was making demands that would not be satisfied by sucking Draco off...and besides, he was supposed to be punishing the whelp!

"Bend over," he ordered, yanking Draco by his bound wrists until the boy was bent over his lap with a confused expression; apparently Draco believed that Snape wanted to be sucked, so he tried to pull back at an angle to get his mouth positioned over Snape's cock. "Not like that. Down!" A single hard slap sent Draco sprawling across his lap, head and arms dangling and erection prodding into Snape's thigh. Snape had to shift his legs to prevent the sleek body from falling to the floor, which allowed his own cock to spring up and poke into Draco's side.

"What...?" Draco started to ask, but another smack from Snape's eager palm turned the query into a grunt. Draco's torso jerked forward, forcing his groin to thrust over Snape's lap and sliding his body over Snape's stiff cock. The boy cried out, "Oh!"

Oh -- this was better than Snape had ever imagined. He brought his hand down again and again and again, knowing from the sting in his palm that those perfect buttocks must be smarting from the slaps. How he had wanted to do this when Draco was his student, in his chair in the classroom or in his bed in the dungeons, with the wicked handsome boy writhing in his lap just like this!

Draco groaned with each smack as he was driven helplessly over Snape's lap, harder than ever, generating wonderful heat that pooled in Snape's pelvis as he spanked and spanked in a fine fast rhythm. He had been provoked beyond reason! He had every right to enjoy this! Then a horrifying thing happened. Pressed against Draco's smooth hot form, Snape felt his entire body tighten. He tried urgently to stop it, but he could only shudder helplessly and jerk up against his twitching, receptive victim as lust overcame him and his cock pumped liquid pleasure out all over Draco's belly and side.

In the time it took Snape to catch his breath, Draco had begun to thrust rhythmically, letting out little needy whimpers. "Please," he moaned, "please make me come!"

Perhaps he was begging to be spanked some more, but Snape was too deeply ashamed of his loss of control to derive any satisfaction from continuing to punish young Malfoy -- Snape was the one who should have been slapped. "Get up," he commanded irritably, grabbing one of Draco's arms and shoving him awkwardly to his feet.

It was a relief to take the swollen cock into his mouth, to hide his burning face against the boy's damp groin and avoid any possible conversation. Unfortunately, Draco went rigid all too soon, calling out, "Aah, aah, LOVE YOU!" as he shoved himself forward and filled Snape's mouth.

This was the very last thing Snape wanted to hear -- or at least the very last thing he needed to hear, since he found to his horror that the words made him feel lightheaded and, well, happy. Didn't Draco realize how much danger he was putting them both in! Furiously, Snape lifted his head and spat the bitter mouthful of semen onto Draco's trousers where they lay discarded on the floor.

"Sorry -- thought I warned you," said Draco breathlessly, making an awkward attempt to stroke Snape's hair with his restrained hands.

"Just be quiet," Snape demanded. That sexy voice and those gentle hands were overwhelming him; he had to speak quickly. "You have disobeyed all my restrictions. I meant what I said earlier, when you so mockingly refused to believe that I would end this if you would not agree to my rules. It's over, Malfoy."

"Severus," Draco laughed affectionately, sagging against Snape and sliding his arms over his head to embrace him as well as he could in his confined state. His body was warm and relaxed and his lips were soft and sweet on Snape's. "It's just us here. No one's ever going to know what you let me get away with or what you admit you like. Why are you so ashamed?"

"I am NOT ashamed!" Draco was sitting in Snape's lap, his overheated bum pressing over Snape's thighs, curled up against him like a child or a lover; Snape could see the disbelieving smirk at his overly loud pronouncement. "You have repeatedly refused to accept that your actions put us in danger. You have shown no willingness to..."

Draco cut him off with another kiss. "That puts you in danger?" he demanded when he finally released Snape's traitorous lips. "Only because you like it, and you think that's a weakness. It's not. We're Slytherins -- we're supposed to take what we want."

"Which of us is the teacher and which the pupil?" Snape snarled at him. "Slytherins do not indulge hedonistic whims at the expense of power! Do you want to be like Slughorn?"

"At least he always has a circle of pretty boys around him," Draco shot back. "How stupid do you think I am? Do you think I don't know you're trying to stop this because you _like_ me? You gave up everything to save my life! You killed Dumbledore for me!"

"I did not do that out of some absurd romantic feeling! I made an Unbreakable Vow..."

"With my mother. I know. Look, I'm not an imbecile. You didn't do that for her, or my father, or me. You were up to something else all along. I can't ask you about it because then you're going to think I'm only after you to use you, and that's not true." Pressing his lips together to avoid letting any expression show on his face, Snape glowered at Draco. "Of course I want to get my father free. I want my life back. I want to be able to come and go from this house. But I've wanted you since I was old enough to know what it meant to want a man that way, and for the past year you haven't been looking at me like I'm just another student!"

Merlin, but the boy was like his father! The same arrogance, the same charm...only Draco had an innocence that Lucius had never possessed in the time Snape had known him, an underlying sweetness that could prove fatal to them both. "Pay very close attention to me," ordered Snape, wincing as he felt Draco's arms tighten around his neck. "Even if there were any truth to your delusions of passion between us, that sort of weakness only gets Death Eaters killed. The wisest thing we can do is to give up all attachments save the one to the Dark Lord; do you think your Aunt Bellatrix would hesitate to sacrifice you, your mother or her own husband if he demanded it?"

"My parents..." began Draco.

"Your father has been left to rot in prison and your mother is safe only because she has no inkling of your whereabouts. I cannot protect you or them if you will not cooperate!"

The boy's shoulders sagged, and for a moment Snape felt triumphant, though it was a rather hollow feeling, not at all gratifying the way it had been gratifying to hear Draco cry out that he loved him. Yet a moment later even that comfort was gone. "Sooner or later the Dark Lord's going to come after me anyway," Draco muttered. "I'd much rather have this to lose than have nothing but sitting down here waiting to die. I don't care if you were my teacher or if you're not a Pureblood or if secretly you've always been on Dumbledore's side. I want to be with you! And you want to be with me!"

Then Draco kissed him, and Snape found himself responding before he had time to remind himself that he would not go along with this, dared not go along with this...had to put a stop to this at once! As soon as he extricated himself from those warm limbs wrapped around him, the fingers trying clumsily to stroke his hair, the soft skin with firm muscles beneath. No sane man could walk away from this! Yet Snape knew now that there was no choice. How could Draco fail to see that these very actions might compromise Snape's ability to protect him? And they might compromise Snape himself, even if Draco had meant the things he said, which was highly improbable -- Lucius might not object to Snape's not being a Pureblood as an occasional lover, but he would certainly not accept it in a partner, and Snape was certain he had raised his son with the same beliefs.

Pure selfishness, Slytherin to the core...how could the boy not see the danger of such immoderation! Perhaps he did, and he was merely reckless; he grinned at Snape with a cocky arrogance, murmuring, "You know you do. You don't even try to stop me. You _want_ this." Snape knew that he must leave the cellar before his charge could affect him any further. Ducking his head out from the circle of Draco's arms, he lifted the boy from his lap and shoved him firmly onto the mattress. He dressed himself completely before retrieving his wand to remove the cords that bound Draco's wrists.

"Clearly you have no intention of cooperating with me," Snape began stiffly.

"You're wrong." Yet again, Draco interrupted him. "I heard you. You're trying to keep me alive and my family safe. Severus, if you want to tell yourself you don't care, you're not doing this for me, if that's what you need to believe when you talk to the Dark Lord, I understand that. But _you can't make me not love you_."

The safest thing to do, Snape decided, was to refuse to respond to this -- to refuse to give the boy anything else he could use against him. "I am going upstairs now," he announced.

"Then I'll see you when you come back."

The confidence in the tone was absolutely infuriating. Particularly since Snape did not know how he could resist coming back...how he could resist that perfect arse, that sweet mouth, that firm yet submissive young body, those bright blue eyes...

And worst of all, Draco knew. He knew that Snape would keep coming to him until it was truly over...until Voldemort had killed one or both of them, or if by some marvel they both survived, until Draco was free to walk away, back to his life of privilege among the other beautiful young Purebloods. Draco had successfully ensnared Severus Snape, and there wasn't a thing Snape could do about it.


	5. The Unluckiest One

Severus Snape considered himself an unlucky man. How was he to have known that that foolish witch Emmeline Vance would have been hiding precisely where he had suggested to the Death Eaters that she might? How could he have guessed that Peter Pettigrew, that mediocrity who had depended on his friends to excel at Hogwarts, would become a talented Dark wizard? How could he have foreseen that Draco Malfoy -- who had been a good but not extraordinary student -- would come close enough to killing Albus Dumbledore to force Snape to intervene?

Now Snape had the monumental misfortune to have become the Dark Lord's most trusted minion, which meant that he was a target for envious Death Eaters as well as his former colleagues in the Order of the Phoenix. While there were a few perks to this position, like the fact that Voldemort rarely used the Cruciatus curse on Snape himself, there were also some distinctly unpleasant aspects. Snape was expected to be present at most of the brutal executions carried out by the Death Eaters, he had no choice but to approve the sessions of Muggle torture gleefully orchestrated by Bellatrix Lestrange, and when Voldemort was in a temper about an unsuccessful raid, he often summoned Snape to dole out punishment to the unlucky subordinate.

So although there was no question that that oaf Amycus deserved suffering and misery, Snape found it disagreeable to wield the wand that tormented him nearly to madness. While Snape had no affection for Goyle, he took no joy in witnessing the suffering of a friend of Lucius Malfoy's and the father of one of Snape's former Slytherin students. Although Snape had no connection whatsoever with the Muggles who died in agony when a mysterious poison with no known antidote was distributed in their medical prescriptions, it made him feel vaguely ill to think about them.

And by the time the war ended, the only bright spot in Snape's life -- the boy hidden in his basement -- would be gone, either to Voldemort's rage or Draco's own wiles or whatever the Ministry might intend for them should they both survive. If Lucius got free and found out about what Snape had done with his son, he might choose simply to ignore it in favor of the many other things on his mind, but Snape imagined the elder Malfoy's response might be anything from displeasure to fury; likely he would not threaten Snape because of it, but there would be curt frostiness rather than the cordial welcome that Snape sometimes allowed himself to think of as true friendship. Narcissa, too, would be unlikely to display any anger she might feel, for Snape had kept her precious son alive, but he would never again be welcome in her home. And that was presuming that Draco would even want to maintain even a superficial acquaintance with Snape once he regained his former stature as the heir of one of the wealthiest wizarding families.

For some time Snape had been weighing the risks of trying to rescue Lucius from Azkaban and recruit him in his own struggle with the Dark Lord. On the one hand, Lucius would likely be furious that Voldemort had sent his only son to fight Albus Dumbledore and no more pleased that he himself had been abandoned in the Ministry's vile prison, so it was possible that Lucius would join Snape and forgive his actions with Draco. On the other hand, Lucius might simply run right back to Voldemort, trading tales of Snape's treachery for a restoration of his former position and rallying the Purebloods to his own ends. Snape had little doubt that he and Draco together could manage whatever ineffectual guard had replaced the Dementors, but setting Lucius free would only create new distractions for the Aurors and Order members, with no guarantee that it would be of benefit to Snape in any way.

However, it was the one action that he believed might win him Draco's lasting gratitude. He harbored no delusions that the boy meant what he said when he claimed to love his former teacher, but perhaps Draco's adolescent physical needs could be manipulated so that he might feel genuine affection...

For the third time in a single evening, Snape found himself standing by the door that opened on the stairs to the cellar. If he went down there, Draco would see it as a concession -- it had not even been a full day since Snape's last shameful visit! But perhaps Snape could turn it into a demonstration of strength, an indication that he could and would take what he wanted. This dithering and hesitation was repulsive in a man of his age! Yes -- he would march downstairs and fuck Draco because he wished it, like any good Slytherin would do, and he would refuse to allow the boy to maneuver him any further with his sweet, sexy kisses and words and the delights of his supple young body.

With Pettigrew conveniently locked in his room, working on potions ingredients of which he had no real need, Snape put a silencing charm on the entire cellar and marched down the stairs. When he found Draco in bed beneath his blankets, looking pale and listless, he stopped short. "Are you ill?" he asked sharply.

"No," Draco replied sullenly. Then he glanced up at Snape and his expression changed to one of alarm. Sitting, he asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing!" Draco's constant assumptions that Snape was suffering were becoming extremely irritating. "Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Because you used to come down here smirking, fuck me without putting up a ruckus and go back upstairs smirking even more, but now you come down here looking like -- I don't know! You're never happy. I can guess that means the war isn't going well, but I'm not sure in this case whether that means the Dark Lord is losing or winning."

"The war is going as well as anyone could have hoped," said Snape in a clipped tone that suggested he would tolerate no further questions on that subject. "If I look less than delighted, perhaps it's because you continue to be disobedient!"

Draco flopped back onto his pillow and turned so that he was facing the wall. "I've been perfectly obedient. I haven't left this bed all day. I don't understand what you want from me. You used to seem so smug and pleased when I showed you all the ways I wanted you, and now everything makes you angry."

"I was not smug and pleased!" Draco turned his head, gave him a frustrated glance and faced the wall again, leaving Snape rattled. Had he truly given so much away, or was the boy merely guessing? "I accepted your enthusiasm, but it was not necessary."

"Then if I tell you I'm not in the mood today, you'll go back upstairs?"

"I do not intend to force you, if that is what you are suggesting! I will leave you to your childish tantrum!" Snape spat, feeling his face heat with anger. For a moment he was tempted to -- not to take Draco against his will, for although Snape had the magical means to do so at his disposal, he found the idea repugnant -- but to march over and kiss the boy just long enough for Draco's own teenage hormones to take over. Yet he found himself so disappointed at Draco's unexpected reluctance that his own mood had altered; he was less in a frame of mind for passionate sex than blowing up cauldrons. Why did Voldemort never summon him for dirty work when Snape was in the right frame of mind for it!

"Sever- sir. I don't want you to leave." Draco had turned to gaze at him sadly. His eyes were not those of a child. "I'm just so frustrated -- I hate being trapped down here. I want to _do_ something. I _wish_ you'd just do what you want with me! You won't let me help you, and you get angry at me any time you let loose and do what you want."

"Oh?" Snape was shouting, which he had not intended. He knew perfectly well that it was not Draco with whom he became angry any time he let loose and did what he wanted. "You would _like_ it if I tied you to this bed and fucked you and refused to let you come until you had apologized for every act of disobedience in your miserable life?"

"YES!" The wail was unquestionably heartfelt. "I've dreamed of that! I thought you didn't even notice when I did things to get your attention! You could refuse to let me come until I promised you ANYTHING!"

Vaguely Snape wondered whether Felix Felicis could break this unbelievable streak of misfortune, for it was clear that Draco would continue to manipulate Snape for as long as Snape's unchecked desires kept him in thrall. But how could anyone resist this without going mad? Snape was certain that if he tried, he would get no rest, pacing and tossing in silent frustration until one day the Dark Lord perceived his weakness and broke through his defenses. Maybe that was what Draco wanted; maybe he hoped to break Snape and replace him at Voldemort's side!

Furiously Snape flung himself upon the prone body, kissing Draco brutally as the young man's arms came up to grip him in a tight embrace. He tore at Draco's clothes -- he was going to need a spell to repair them later, but he had no patience now with buttons and fasteners. Draco was urging him on with groans and cries of "Yes" and "Please," writhing, kicking his trousers off so he could raise his legs like a practiced whore (at least, what Snape suspected a practiced whore would be like, having had no personal experience with professional sex, which was something he now regretted as any whore might have been safer than this boy). Snape had uttered the lubrication spell and thrust roughly inside before he realized that he should have put Draco on all fours to avoid eye contact.

And kissing. Draco arched up awkwardly to find Snape's mouth, sliding his tongue inside as Snape slid deep within Draco's body...claiming Snape even as the older man took the younger for his own pleasure. Snape had intended to do as he had threatened, refusing to let Draco come until he had the boy babbling, giving away all his secrets, but his fingers eagerly sought the rigid shaft between them and began to stroke it, letting Snape relish the hot smooth skin and the way Draco's arse contracted around Snape's cock when he brushed his fingers across the spots he knew would make Draco throb.

What a fool the Dark Lord had been to use the boy for murder instead of for this! If Snape had been a Dark Lord, he would have locked Draco safely away in his bedroom and kept the boy from boredom by fucking him at regular intervals, testing his limits with silk ropes and wax and feathers, devising spells to stimulate the inner glands without actually touching the body so that Draco would writhe and jerk and spurt in midair... The thought of Draco arching and crying out in ecstasy, held immobile several feet off the ground, spraying semen from his cock while his arms stretched high above his head in invisible bonds, was enough to make Snape's balls tighten. He stroked Draco faster, wanting to feel that hot cream pour over his fingers before he ejaculated into the tight receptive arse that clenched and convulsed around him.

"Come," he ordered, and as if it had been a spell, Draco shouted and pumped a hot jet right onto Snape's belly. The wetness dripped onto Draco's groin and Snape's hand while Draco's arse seemed to clutch at Snape's cock, refusing to let it exit -- as if it would ever have wanted to withdraw from all that rippling, squeezing heat! Rocking back and forth, Snape ground himself in deeper, releasing Draco's cock to grab his bum and force him even more open, take him in with his balls resting snugly against Draco's bottom and Draco's pubic hair tickling on the...

Draco's hand slipped around his body, finding and pinching a nipple, making everything in the world disappear but Draco's arse and fingers and the look of happiness he wore before Snape's eyes became incapable of sight. He knew only when it was over from the rawness in his throat that he must have screamed as he came, filling that arse he had wanted to claim as his own. Maybe he could convince Draco to take an Unbreakable Vow never to leave, if Snape rescued his father or saved his life or defeated Voldemort singlehandedly or told Draco that he couldn't go on anymore without this...

There was a hand in his hair, stroking and soothing him, and a half-amused, half-nervous voice asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yah - yes," Snape managed to reply. His throat hurt and his lips did not want to shape words.

"I've never heard you scream like that before. Thought maybe you pulled a muscle. You were fucking me _hard_." Draco sounded anything but sorry about this. There was a moment's silence, and then he continued, in a more resigned voice, "Now you're going to yell at me some more and go upstairs, aren't you. Every time I think my luck is changing, you leave."

Since he still did not wish to speak, Snape stayed where he was. Draco kept combing through his hair, perhaps realizing for once that this might be a good time to keep quiet, while Snape tried to think. Had he expressed any of those insane thoughts that passed through his head just before orgasm aloud? What had he shouted? He did not think he had given himself away, if Draco expected him to snap at him and leave. Perhaps Snape had been too harsh in the past; perhaps that was why Draco found it so necessary to try to maneuver him.

The body beneath his wriggled uncomfortably, and Snape realized that Draco must be sore after being fucked so brutally. Not without some reluctance, he slid out of the warmth of Draco's arse, hearing the younger man suck in his breath as if it caused him pain. Picking up his wand from where he had tossed it carelessly after the lubrication spell, Snape uttered a charm against pain and shifted from between Draco's legs so the boy could lower them, again accompanied by a soft gasp. Clearing his throat, Snape said, "There's a potion that will help. Would you object if I went upstairs to get it?"

"You'll come back?" Draco asked. His expression wavered between doubt and hope. Snape bit back the urge to say that he had just told him he would and simply nodded.

Wormtail was standing in the living room flipping through one of Snape's mother's books on competitive gobstones. He jumped when he saw Snape, who barked, "Why aren't you in your room?"

"Y-you told me to keep the kitchen clean!" The squeaky voice grated on Snape's nerves. "What are you working on in the cellar? You're always..."

"_That is not your concern!_" A moment later Snape was sorry that he had spoken so strongly, yet for the moment, at least, fear overwhelmed curiosity in the rat's expression. "Let me make something very clear to you, Pettigrew. If you interfere in my work for the Dark Lord, I will immobilize and bind you and transport you to him myself, and if we catch him in a bad mood, he may eviscerate you before you have time to explain yourself." Wormtail nodded as he backed away, holding the book in front of himself like a shield. "Now put that away and _go to your room_!"

Snape had been tempted to tell Pettigrew to clean the bathroom as well as the kitchen, but the salve he wanted was in one of the cabinets there. Once Wormtail had scurried off, he retrieved the small jar and crept back down to the cellar, making certain to restore the locking and silencing charms behind him. Draco had rolled onto his belly with one knee bent beneath him and his arms folded under his head; he looked uncomfortable and his arsehole was a bit inflamed.

"Try not to move," Snape told him, scooping salve onto his fingers and beginning to rub it over the swollen opening. Draco hissed sharply when the fingers first pressed down, but after a moment he began to relax, letting Snape push some of the healing potion inside.

"That feels good," Draco murmured, shifting to give Snape better access. The flesh inside also felt slightly swollen but Snape was relieved to find that there was no bleeding, and, feeling slightly ashamed of himself, he leaned to press a kiss to Draco's hip. With a soft moan the boy surged up, then sank back down, and in an embarrassed voice he said, "Sorry, I'm, ah, you know..."

"I know," Snape replied, unsurprised that Draco was responding with a teenager's recuperative powers. He supposed that he owed Draco a little gentleness, and besides, Draco was in _his_ power now, not the other way around. Placing a pillow behind the boy, Snape rolled him onto his side and slid down in the bed, taking the stiff cock into his mouth. It was clean -- Draco had apparently cast a charm while Snape was upstairs -- but the faint taste of semen lingered, as well as a sweetness that belonged entirely to Draco.

"Oh," the boy's ragged voice moaned softly from above Snape. "Oh _fuck_ that's good..." His body undulated as he shuddered. "Fuck, please, don't stop, _please_." Did Draco really think that Snape would stop in the middle of sucking him off? Snape had never been that cruel! Curious, he glanced up, withdrawing his mouth to the crown of the cock, and Draco looked down to meet his eyes. "Oh please, I'll do anything!" he begged, trying to push his hips forward again. "Tell me what you want me to say, I don't know anymore, you don't like it when I say I love...AAH!"

Snape had swallowed as much of the cock as he could take down his throat, gripping Draco's hips to prevent him from pushing any deeper. He nodded his head up and down, sliding the warm shaft between his lips and along his tongue, wondering why Draco's tasted so much better than anyone else he could remember; was it his youth, his enthusiasm, some Dark magic of which Snape was unaware? He sucked slowly, listening to Draco's quiet pleas and moans of gratitude, until for the first time in a long time, his jaw began to get sore -- Draco usually came quickly enough to avoid that. Groping for the jar of salve, Snape coated a single finger and began to rub it up and down very gently over the surface of the entrance he had so forcefully entered earlier. The cock in his mouth swelled, choking off his breath for a moment before he slid it between his lips and it coated his tongue and palate with hot liquid.

Draco was crying out again, saying things Snape was trying not to hear over the sound of himself swallowing -- declarations of love, adoring utterances of his given name, repetitions of the word "Yes." It was all excessive, but perhaps Draco simply had not learned not to overstate the case; perhaps he did not have any specific manipulation in mind. When Snape had pulled away from the softening cock, released Draco's hips and shifted up in the bed, he found himself with his arms full of a grateful, affectionate young man who kissed his mouth and rested his head on his shoulder.

"Do you finally believe me?" asked Draco.

"No," Snape replied shortly. "But your delusions are harming no one but yourself." He felt Draco lift his head to look at him and continued quickly, "We need to be able to work together, and fucking you seems to be the best way to assure your compliance. I intend to rescue your father from prison, and I require your absolute loyalty. If you attempt to betray me, the Dark Lord will kill you both. If you do not..."

He could not finish because Draco had kissed him hard again and seized him tightly around the middle, cutting off his oxygen. "Shut up and listen to me," the younger man said breathlessly. "You have my absolute loyalty. I don't know exactly what you're up to, but if you were truly working for the Dark Lord, I'd be dead by now. I don't care whether you're on the Ministry's side, or that secret group Dumbledore had, or nobody's side but your own. I will do anything to get my father out of Azkaban and if for some reason he tries to fight you, I'll tell him that I'm going wherever you go. But, Severus, I don't think that could happen because you must know that my father only returned to the Dark Lord's service to protect my mother and me, and that I only joined the Death Eaters to protect him..."

"Stop!" Snape interrupted, even though the words were extremely gratifying -- almost as much so as fucking Draco. "It is extremely dangerous to discuss any of this, so you will please keep your thoughts to yourself!"

Flushing, Draco nodded, but a moment later he was kissing Snape exuberantly again. "I'm _not_ delusional," he said. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be with me, and when all this is over we're going to be together."

"Whatever you say," said Snape in the most disinterested voice that he could muster. Hope could be as dangerous as the Imperius curse, and now more than ever, it was not a risk that a man as unlucky as Severus Snape could afford.


	6. The Treacherous One

In the end, breaking Lucius Malfoy out of Azkaban was a ridiculously simple exercise. Snape had suspected that, with the Dementors gone, creeping past the Ministry of Magic thugs assigned to guard the prison would not be difficult. But after stowing away on a supply ship, then sneaking Draco onto the island and into the building, only to find Lucius out of his cell and holding court among incarcerated Death Eaters and ex-Ministry officials alike...it was almost disappointing to have put so much effort into the scheme when Draco was able to wave his wand a bit, perform a few tricks found in any introductory Dark Arts manual and walk out with his arm around his father's throat as if it had actually been an abduction rather than a rescue.

Now Snape had ensconced Lucius safely away from both Death Eaters and Ministry officials in a rundown Muggle neighborhood where he doubted anyone would think to look for a Malfoy. He had listened to a lengthy rant from Lucius about the Dark Lord having gone too far this time, had witnessed a touching reunion between Draco and his father, and had subtly advanced his plan to recruit the Malfoys to his own cause. He was cautiously optimistic about that. The only problem was that he had managed neither to find a way to tell Lucius that he was shagging his son nor to break it off with Draco.

The latter was really the only reasonable solution, but Snape did not _want_ to break it off with Draco. He had been prepared for the likelihood that with his father free, Draco might lose interest in Snape altogether -- Snape was practically Lucius' age, for Merlin's sake -- but, if anything, Draco seemed more eager than ever to show his appreciation and gratitude. And with Dumbledore dead, all of Snape's Hogwarts colleagues despising him and not one Death Eater trusting him, he was reluctant to give up this one small source of comfort. Actually, not a small source at all. Really, something to which Snape was becoming entirely addicted.

Yet what was the alternative? _Good afternoon, Lucius, I've brought you some cognac, here is a map of the region around the Dark Lord's hideout, and, incidentally, I deflowered your son_? Or the more horrid possibility: what if Draco told his father before Snape did? He might say something absurd -- the boy was constantly making ridiculous comments about how they were in love! If Lucius did not have an apoplexy on the spot, he would likely try to kill Snape soon afterward. Not for the first time, Snape reconsidered the wisdom of having given Lucius a wand and wondered whether Lucius would give it back to him on the grounds that any unauthorized magic might be detected by the Ministry, the Death Eaters or both.

"You look unhappy," Draco announced from his position on Snape's bed, where he was lounging instead of reading the book on poisons and antidotes that Snape had assigned him -- the boy had been a fine Potions student, there was no reason for him to neglect his studies just because he was in hiding. Winking, Draco added, "Perhaps a little time in bed with me would cure that. You've barely touched me since I got back from Azkaban."

"The last thing we need is for your father to discover what we have done," Snape replied crossly.

"Father doesn't have to find out about it today. And anyway, I want to tell him everything. We've never kept secrets, and I want him to know I love you."

There it was again -- that declaration that never failed to make Snape's heart beat wildly in terror that the Dark Lord would somehow learn of it and make them both pay. "You do _not_ love me," he insisted. "You only want sex from me."

"You're wrong." Draco was already taking his trousers off. "I do love you. But I also want sex from you. Will you fuck me? Sir?"

Indeed, the boy did want sex -- he was sporting a luscious-looking erection and was wantonly throwing his clothing around the room. "We have already been over this," Snape reminded him. "You are confusing gratitude and lust with love."

"It doesn't make it not love if there's gratitude and lust too," objected Draco. "I don't feel as if I'm paying you back, you know." Fully undressed, he got on all fours, leaning his weight forward onto his elbows and presenting his smooth round arse to Snape.

No one in his right mind could have resisted that arse, and Snape reached out helplessly to massage and squeeze it. "I did not mean to imply that you would do this only to pay me back," he conceded. Draco had grown up surrounded by money and the things it could buy; he had no need to whore himself out, so it must have been enjoyment that led him to such wanton behavior. "But that doesn't make it love."

Moaning and wiggling, Draco pressed his bottom into Snape's hands. "This, right here, is lust," he conceded. "But what I feel in my heart..." A loud moan interrupted the thought as Snape let his finger slide into the crack between Draco's buttocks.

Snape teased him with the finger, brushing it lightly over the puckered opening that until so recently had never been breached. The idea that no one had ever fucked this arse but himself always excited him and made him feel proprietary about the boy. Maybe Draco felt that way about Snape's penis, and that was why he said such things. "You are confusing your heart with other organs," sighed Snape.

Whimpering, Draco tried to shift to get the finger where he wanted it. "No..." he panted. "My heart is in my chest. That's not where I'm horny."

It was so delightful, too, the way Draco moved to try to clench Snape's fingers between his buttocks every time Snape threatened to take it away. "_This_ is where you are horny," he scoffed, tickling the spot. "Your heart may be lonely for your parents and your friends, but this distraction from that should not be confused with affection for me."

"Please!" And who could resist that shameless wriggling arse? "I miss you when you're away! I missed you in the summers when I wasn't at Hogwarts! I'd rather have been with you than with my friends!"

He moaned again, and Snape sighed, taking the finger away to lick it so that it would be wet enough to wriggle into Draco. Apparently the boy had a strong need for a dominating male figure -- a substitute for his father perhaps -- and had latched on to some absurd fantasy of his Head of House in that role. It would not be long before Draco recognized that his attachment to Snape was based on youthful delusion, at which point he would acknowledge all the ugliness and flaws of his fantasy figure.

"Oh? You miss me telling you your faults as a student?" he asked sarcastically, fingering Draco's delightfully tight hole.

Moving against the finger, Draco raised his hips further in the air. His knees were digging into the mattress and he swayed back and forth, rocking eagerly. "Yes...that too," he breathed. "I want to be yours!

Snape pushed in another finger without bothering to wet it first, drawing a groan from the boy. "What do you think your parents would say if they could hear you?" he demanded.

Shivering at the friction, Draco made another urgent sound, spreading his legs more widely. "Hear me...moan like this? Or hear me say I want to be yours?" He rocked back against Snape's hand, engulfing the fingers easily.

What a demanding creature the boy had become! Snape slapped him with his free hand. "Both, you insolent little slut!" Yelping in surprise, Draco clenched around his fingers.

"I don't know -- don't care -- need you!"

Letting out a hiss of disapproval, Snape fucked him harder with the fingers. "They would tell you to stop indulging yourself. They would tell you to think like the Slytherin and the pureblood you are!" Of course, Snape considered, part of being a Slytherin was taking the things one wanted, as he had explained to Draco himself, which was his own reason for being here with the boy, but that did not exempt one from fulfilling one's obligations to family and House. Withdrawing his fingers, Snape spat on them and pushed a third in with the other two. "You can have what you need without throwing around words like love."

"Oh fuck! Fuck yes...oh Merlin...not throwing it around." The boy sounded decidedly needy, and with a sigh, Snape pulled his fingers out, reaching for the lube.

"Why do you insist on saying these things? Are you afraid I'll stop fucking you if you don't?" The potion was unpleasantly cool on his skin at first, but it felt good to stroke it up and down his cock while thinking about thrusting into Draco's waiting arse.

Craning his head around to watch, Draco cast a longing look at Snape. "No..." He was breathless, and that made Snape's cock twitch. "You'll fuck me anyway..." The words made Snape hesitate, even as Draco spread his legs more widely to invite him. "Because you enjoy it! That's all I meant! Please...I'll be good!"

"Then stop talking so much!" Snape was thinking once again that this was a bad idea, that it was all a mistake, but he was very horny from the pleading and wriggling and he didn't see how Lucius himself could have said no with the boy offering his arse so willingly. Moving in behind Draco, he teased Draco's hole with his cock.

"Yes...oh please, Sir!" Draco pressed back at once, while Snape was feeling gratified by the _Sir_. "I want it...I love feeling your cock inside me! Sir!" Obligingly Snape popped the head inside and out, smirking to himself when Draco whimpered and moaned, "No -- more! Oh please, all of it! Sir!" The older man pushed partway in and pulled all the way out a few times just because he liked it, both the sensation and the way Draco whimpered every time Snape pulled out, then moaned in gratitude when he was entered, trying to push back to get more.

Snape squeezed Draco's arse again just because he liked that, too, and thrust in a little further. "You need something?"

Draco was panting. "Yes...you! Your cock...oh please, fuck me!" He begged like a slut, and Snape smirked again as he obliged Draco, sliding all the way inside him.

"Developed a taste for it, have you?" Groaning, Draco nodded vigorously. Oh, this arse was perfect, firm and tight and so very willing...and all his for now, no one else had ever fucked the hot little hole...it was pure bliss to think about that, and Snape started to thrust harder, with Draco eagerly rocking back against him, enjoying every second and certainly every inch. He really was a good boy, trying so hard to please. Snape slid a hand around Draco's side and caressed his hip for a moment before reaching for his cock. "Do you like that?

"Yes...yes...love it...love you!" A loud moan filled the room, for Draco could no longer form complete sentences. "I need -- oh! YES!" Snape was trying to tell Draco to stop saying he loved him, particularly at such a dangerous moment as this with Snape so deeply inside him that it was impossible to tell where one of them ended and the other began. Then, as Draco bucked with the sheer pleasure of it and began to pulse in his hand, tightening around him and shrieking "LOVE YOU!" once more, Snape could only manage to groan -- and then, very embarrassingly, to come.

Draco moaned loudly as his arse was filled, staying braced on his elbows and knees until Snape had collapsed over his back, pressing him flat against the mattress. He forgot to be mortified for a little while, for Draco's hair smelled good and Draco wriggled luxuriantly beneath him, enjoying the feel of Snape's weight on him, perhaps feeling owned and possessed and loved...

Quickly Snape lifted his head, prepared to object to Draco's saying inappropriate things at inappropriate moments. But he realized that Draco might take it the wrong way, since Snape had had an orgasm just when he heard the words. Uneasily he put his head down again, and Draco -- who had been holding his breath since Snape pulled back -- sighed happily, reaching back to stroke Snape's hip.

"Don't you think you'll be sorry you've said such things to me when you're back in your own house? Your own world?" Snape asked him.

"No." He felt Draco's shoulders tense for a moment, then relax again. "I won't be sorry at all."

"Well, perhaps I will be sorry." Snape had not meant to speak aloud but once the words were mumbled, there was no recalling them. Beneath him, Draco twisted, trying to look at his face.

"Why will you be sorry, Sir?"

Snape crawled off his back and flopped face-first on the bed so he wouldn't have to look at his young lover. "I've already told you! It's dangerous."

"So you keep telling me. I don't understand." Draco sat up a bit to caress Snape's back. "Why would I be in danger for saying that I love you? It can't be more dangerous than anything else in this war -- than you hiding me in your house!"

Snape shivered, then wriggled as if it had been Draco's fingers on his back that gave him the chill. "You are aware that not even so skilled an Occlumens as myself can keep everything from the Dark Lord when he chooses to invade my thoughts?"

"I'm sure he won't mind that you've duped me so completely to bind me to you through my own emotions. You were using me all along, weren't you? I'm sure you have plans for me, whether or not they involve the Death Eaters."

"He won't mind? When he learns that I failed to bring you to him for summary execution when you failed to kill Dumbledore?" Glaring up, Snape saw the determined set of Draco's jaw waver. He rolled over partway to look up at the boy fully. "It would be best if I rarely saw you and did not think of you at all. If the Dark Lord suspected any, ah, attachment between us..."

"But! Sir! You're not attached to me! You've assured me so many times." Draco looked sad now. "It's just me."

The pout was extremely irritating. "There is a difference between a certain amount of attachment based on long familiarity and professing love!" Draco hung his head even more, and Snape studied him, confused. "What are you so unhappy about? Didn't I give you what you wanted?"

Hunching his shoulders in defeat, Draco asked, "Could we not fight after sex, just once? You're always angry with me, especially after sex! You used to be relaxed..."

"I'm not angry with you!"

"You sound angry."

"But I am not!" Snape realized that he was very nearly shouting. Draco had pulled back, looking as if he planned to throw his clothes on and sneak back down to the cellar, which was extremely frustrating. "NOW where are you going!"

"I...I thought you wanted me to leave you alone."

"You just said you didn't want to fight!" Snape rubbed wearily at his eyes as Draco sat back down on the bed, looking puzzled. "I want to..." He stopped himself in horror, for what he had been going to say was _sleep with you_, which would have been bad enough if he had meant it in a sexual sense, but what he had actually been hoping to do was to curl up around Draco and rest without thinking about the war, Voldemort, Lucius, the Death Eaters and all the rest. Unhappily he demanded, "Just stop talking so much."

"Yes, Sir." Somehow, Draco seemed to have heard everything he did not say, for he lay down again, pulling Snape over to him and kissing him. After a moment, Snape put his arms around the boy, pulled him closer and kissed him back. Perhaps he was setting a poor example as a Slytherin, failing simply to take what he wanted. With a soft sigh, he kissed Draco's hair and forehead and face, resisting the temptation to suck on his fingers because then Draco would probably get hard again...which would just lead to more sex, and actually that was not such a terrible idea.

"Can I ask you something about my father?" asked Draco softly.

Snape felt himself tensing again. "What?" he demanded irritably.

"Which do you think would upset him more? If he discovered that you fucked me like a common whore, and you had no feelings for me beyond wanting someone's young arse in your bed? Or if he thought that you saved me, and kept me here, and took care of me, and made sure I had everything I needed, even sex, because you loved me?"

Snape did not reply. The boy was trying to manipulate him. He was trying to force some false confession of love; that was plain. Even if he happened to be right -- of course Lucius would understand Snape being able to deny Draco nothing, even if he was furious, and Lucius would not turn his back on his son even if the boy turned his back on the Death Eaters, it was very nearly a perfect plan, to _let_ the boy tell his father that Severus Snape was in love with him, that that was why Lucius was out of prison and Voldemort had not been able to touch either Malfoy...

It was brilliant, and so dangerous that Snape wondered whether he would survive it.


	7. The Honest One

Lucius was sitting so still, looking so glassy-eyed and pale, that for a moment Snape thought his worst fears had come true and the man had, in fact, had an apoplexy. After a few moments, however, his eyes moved, darting from Draco's face to Snape's, then back, and then fixing upon Snape once more, like the deadly glare of a basilisk.

"Is this true, Severus?" he asked icily. "You and Draco are..." Lucius' lip curled as though Snape smelled like the Wolfsbane potion he had recently been brewing. "...in love?"

Snape allowed himself a single instant's scowl at Lucius' son. He had known that it was a risk, letting the Malfoys see one another, but Lucius had required proof that Draco was truly safe and content...and Draco had begged, pleaded and cajoled at a moment when Snape found it very difficult to say "no" to him. It was necessary for Lucius to see that Draco's rejection of the Death Eaters came from his own experiences rather than Snape's influence, while Snape suspected that the boy would not risk permanent alienation of his father.

But Snape had begged Draco not to make absurd declarations that would at best infuriate the elder Malfoy and at worst make him suspect mind control. Now that the words had been spoken, there could be only one response, and Draco had known it. Miserably Snape berated himself; if he had spoken sentimental, idiotic words to Draco in private, perhaps the boy would have agreed to keep their liaison a secret from his family in the name of protecting them.

Instead he was smiling a tiny, triumphant little smirk, waiting for Snape's inevitable response: "Yes." Lucius' eyes flashed momentarily toward his wand, making Snape regret that this replacement was so easily accessible at the moment, not safely hidden within the walking stick that had been confiscated when he was sent to Azkaban. "Cursing me will avail you nothing," he continued, at the same moment that Draco cried out.

"No, Father!"

Lucius' eyes narrowed. He did not seem to realize how much he revealed with his body language -- his pride and haughtiness were unmistakable to strangers, while even Voldemort recognized his defiance, the reluctance to kneel and bow his head. After another long glare at Snape, he turned his gaze to his son. "Do you realize what he has done to you?" he asked softly.

Draco was nodding. "Severus saved my life. He took an Unbreakable Vow to protect me. He did everything he could to keep me safe at Hogwarts and when I wouldn't listen to him, he killed Dumbledore for me. He could have left me at the mercy of the other Death Eaters or the Dark Lord, but he didn't -- he hid me in his house, even though Wormtail was already there spying..."

"Yes, I'm sure that hiding you in his bedroom was a great hardship for Severus," hissed Lucius silkily.

"It wasn't like that. He hid me in the cellar. I'm the one who snuck out. I'm the one who went to his bedroom. He didn't want me there! He said it wasn't safe and we quarreled. You can't blame him!"

"He is the adult, Draco!"

"I'm not a child! And I love him!" Draco's posture revealed the same confidence and determination as his father's. It was a strange thing to notice while he was making such a declaration, thought Snape, who couldn't help reddening slightly at having to hear those words -- again. "If you're going to be angry at someone, Father, it has to be me. I wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for Severus! And you'd still be in Azkaban. He did all this for _me_!"

Not for the first time, Snape felt guilty at having deceived the boy, allowing him to believe that he had done it all for Draco rather than as part of a single-minded effort to defeat the Dark Lord. That was, after all, why he was enduring this humiliation, sitting here with Lucius Malfoy scheming to convince him that bringing down Voldemort would be the only way to keep Draco safe. It certainly wasn't that Snape expected to live happily ever after with Draco once the war was over. He knew better than to believe that Draco's feelings would last once he was free and the full weight of his father's disapproval fell upon him.

Lucius continued to seethe quietly, though he appeared to be making an effort not to raise his voice. "You are very young, Draco," he said stiffly. "And I suppose it is just as well that you learn these lessons from someone I have always trusted, rather than a stranger." Snape kept his face impassive. "I suppose that Severus introduced you to all sorts of physical pleasures you didn't have a chance to explore at school. And I understand that it can be confusing, thinking that you want the person rather than the act. I'm sure that Severus tried to convince you that this is love, because it very much serves his interest to keep you devoted to him..."

"You're wrong, Father. Severus kept trying to convince me that it wasn't love. He told me that as soon as the war was over, I would be expected to marry a pureblood witch and forget all about him." Surprise flickered across Lucius' features before he replaced it with the glower. "He didn't want me to tell you any of this -- I know you're thinking it's because he expected you to be angry, but I think he was just afraid that you would try to make me stop."

"And if I did tell you to stop?" asked Lucius, cocking an eyebrow.

"You won't! I know you wouldn't make me choose. You've always told me that Slytherins take what they want!"

Snapping his gaze to Snape's face, Lucius peered so intently that Snape wondered whether he was attempting to use Legilimency on him. "Is it true what Draco says?" Lucius inquired in a dangerously calm tone. "You expect my son to marry a pureblood witch and forget about you?"

"Isn't that what you would do?" retorted Snape.

They studied each other for a moment before Lucius sat back in his chair, pursing his lips slightly in thought. "I don't suppose that you could help falling in love with him," he said.

"Of course I couldn't, I..." Draco began.

"Not you." Lucius was studying Snape and did not even glance at his son. "He's a wonderful boy, isn't he? Loyal, passionate...he has something of your aptitude for Potions, doesn't he? And Occlumency as well. I can't read him at all." For a moment Lucius looked sad.

"He is very intelligent. And creative." Lucius cocked an eyebrow, and Snape realized that this would not be nearly enough. He had allowed Draco to do most of the talking, but Lucius would not accept the boy's assurances of Snape's affection for him; he wanted to hear it from Snape's own mouth, to see the evidence of Snape's attachment. "He was always my favorite student, but when he was younger, I would never have considered..." Lucius waved a hand in the air, apparently dismissing the thought of Snape as an abuser of children. "What he said was true. He did pursue me. And I did try to tell him that it was unwise. But I feared that he would place himself in danger if I rejected him, and it was no easy matter to lie to him."

Draco gave Snape a smile so heartfelt that he had to look down at the tabletop rather than meeting his eyes. "I tried several times to end it," he continued. "I was unable to do so. I apologize. Now that you know, if you insist that we stop..."

"No!" interrupted Draco. "Father, you can't continue to treat me like a child. I don't want to stop, and Severus..." Suddenly all the certainty went out of his expression, making him look very young. Still, he raised his chin defiantly. "You don't, do you?"

Lucius was watching Snape very closely, but Snape could not spare him a glance; he kept his eyes fixed on Draco. "You know I love you," he said with all the conviction that Draco put into those words when he said them to Snape. "You know that I have only tried to keep you safe. I am still trying to do that!"

Draco's broad smile contained a hint of gloating, but there was also simple joy shining through. It made Snape's chest constrict for reasons he dared not consider. Now he could turn his gaze back to Lucius, and did.

Lucius sighed. "Well, as I said to Draco, it's just as well that you are someone I have trusted -- someone who understands what will be expected of him." The words sounded less approving than intimidating, and his eyes narrowed. "You do understand what I expect of you? Far more than my wife demanded in the Unbreakable Vow. You will not only protect Draco's life -- you will devote yourself to caring for him, or I will make you suffer."

"What do you think he's been doing?" demanded Draco happily before Snape could reply. "What do you think he's spent the past year -- Father! It's how I knew he loved me! Even when he was telling me that wasn't true! He can't deny me anything. When the war is over, when the Dark Lord is gone..."

Both older men inhaled audibly, making Draco hesitate, as if he had grown suddenly aware of what he had been saying. "When the Dark Lord is gone...?" repeated Lucius in a very low voice.

"Can we stop pretending?" Draco blurted out. "We all know why the three of us are sitting in this hideous Muggle flat arguing about the life I'm theoretically going to have if I theoretically can ever come out of hiding! The only way any of us are ever going to be free again is to be rid of him. I've been watching Severus -- he's no more working for the Dark Lord than Dumbledore was. He was just trying to stop me from doing anything stupid. I just didn't understand it. And he had to rescue you from Azkaban because the Death Eaters wouldn't! They were going to leave you there!"

Snape wished fervently that Draco would go back to professing his love -- by comparison it had been a much safer topic, even when Lucius had been moments away from firing curses at him. Yet the words had been spoken, and now Lucius knew where his son stood on the subject of Voldemort."

As before, the elder Malfoy was not looking at his son; he was looking at Snape. "I thought that you, of anyone, would defend the Dark Lord until the bitter end," he said in an ironic tone. "A wizard who rose from obscurity to be the greatest practitioner of the Dark Arts our world has ever known...a half-blood." Draco and Snape both gasped -- Draco in all likelihood because he knew nothing of Voldemort's origins, Snape because he had not guessed that Lucius knew. "All those years you played the spy...were you Dumbledore's man all along?"

"I killed Albus Dumbledore," Snape replied automatically.

"Yes. For my son." Lucius nodded. "My reckless son who now believes that we should be plotting to bring down the Dark Lord, throwing in our lot with all those Mudbloods and Ministry imbeciles. Do you believe that Harry Potter is the Chosen One, Severus?" Draco wrinkled his nose. "You are the one who heard part of the prophecy that I was sent to the Ministry to find. Tell me -- would you have us throw in our lot with that unbearable boy?"

Snape hated thinking about Potter. Hated his name, his scar, his glasses, his arrogance, his House, his father, his inheritance...hated everything about him, except for the possibility that he might do what the prophecy said he would. "Would it be better for us if the Dark Lord defeated the Chosen One, and there was no one left who could stop him?" he asked. "I think you've guessed at his tricks...the secret to his immortality. Is that the leader you want your son to follow?"

Lucius did not reply. He did not need to. The fact that he had not nodded was answer enough. "We have said enough," he said. "I require no vow, Severus, but don't forget -- I am entrusting you with my only child." _And I will flay you alive if you do not keep him safe_, the cold blue eyes told him.

Draco moved closer, and Snape put a hand on his shoulder. "I will vow it if you ask," he said, wishing suddenly that Lucius would demand such a commitment -- something that would bind Draco to him beyond these desperate days of the war, something that would make him believe they had a future.

Draco flung himself into Snape's arms the moment they stepped through the doorway at Spinner's End, even before they had ascertained that Wormtail was still locked in his room. "Stop that!" Snape hissed, sending the boy to the cellar without another word. When, eventually, he gathered food for the two of them and followed, he found Draco sitting on his bed doing the homework he usually tried so diligently to avoid.

Putting down the book, Draco threw himself at Snape again. "Thank you for telling him," he murmured. "I didn't really think you would. I wasn't sure if you really wanted to be with me after the war -- I know I'm young, I know you think I've been spoilt, and I'm foolish..."

"Very foolish," Snape agreed, letting himself be pulled onto the bed and kissed. "You could have made your father believe that you were using me. It would have put you in a stronger position."

"I don't want to play games like that," announced Draco so petulantly that for a moment he sounded very like the child he had been not very long ago; Snape thought about how long ago he had first looked at this boy with desire rather than the annoyance most students provoked in him, and blushed. "Not with my father and not with you. I don't like it when you lie to me."

"I haven't lied to you!" Of course, there had been lies of omission -- things he did not dare tell Draco -- but they had never explicitly discussed his loyalties.

"I mean about us. I'm not stupid. I know you only said those things to my father because you thought it would help us. But I know you feel it. You're only hedging because you think I believe all that rubbish you keep saying about how I won't want to be with you after the war!"

"You've been trapped in my house for months. You haven't even experienced being of age in Wizarding society. You can't know what you're going to want after the war!"

It was always difficult to hold a conversation with Draco's fingers tearing at his buttons. A moment later he found himself flipped around, pushed onto his back and straddled while his clothing was shoved away. "I know exactly what I want after the war," insisted Draco. "I already told you. I want us to live together -- someplace where we can share a bed without me feeling like I'm taking up all your personal space. I'm not going to interfere with your life, you can go back to Hogwarts or run your own apothecary; you know Father would set you up in business if you wanted. I could work with you! Or go finish school if you wanted. I don't care."

Having unfastened most of Snape's clothing, Draco sat on top of him, pressing directly over his erection, while beginning to remove his own robes. Snape tried not to rock up against him as he replied. "You should care. You're a Malfoy, and you could do anything you wished if you would mind your studies. You could become an Auror, or a judge..."

"After this war, I don't want to be an Auror. Potter can go be a hero. And I won't work for the stupid Ministry! I'd rather be a teacher like you. I'm not just good at Potions -- I'm very good at Charms, too."

As if to prove the point, Draco whipped out his wand and fastened Snape's wrists together. "What do you think you're doing?" Snape demanded.

"Thanking you properly!" Off came the rest of Draco's clothes, making Snape realize that he was doomed -- he had never once managed to resist a naked, aroused Draco.

"Has it occurred to you that this might not be the best way to show gratitude if you need to tie me up!"

"Has it occurred to you that you might enjoy it!" Sitting back on his heels, Draco let his naked buttocks surround Snape's cock, which he squeezed and rubbed up and down. When Snape's body involuntarily tried to thrust up against him, Draco grinned and added, "See?"

Snape decided that refusing to respond might be his wisest option; if he opened his mouth, after all, he was very likely to say something like _Don't stop!_ It was unfortunate that he could not help groaning, but Draco's clenching buttocks and teasing fingers made silence impossible.

"Would it be such a terrible thing to have to lie still while I rode your cock?" the wicked boy continued, leaning over Snape to retrieve the jar he had hidden under the pillow. "I know it bothers you when you're not in control because you might slip up and let me see how much you really like it, but I think you should realize by now that I'm not planning to leave when the war is over so you can stop pretending you don't care!"

"That has nothing to do with what position I prefer in bed!"

"No?" Draco had a handful of the slippery substance from the jar and was sliding his fingers over Snape's cock, which twitched and thrust and bucked, trying to get more friction. With a soft moan Snape turned his head, trying to keep Draco's eyes from searching his own. "Look -- you're hiding." The accusation was not gloating, just stating a fact. "You're afraid to look at me while I'm making you come!"

"I am not afraid!" The moment the words were out of his mouth, Snape regretted them deeply -- he sounded like a defensive child. Besides, now Draco was watching him as he stared helplessly at the hand stroking up and down his cock. And at Draco himself -- the young man's erection rose dark against the pale skin of his firm, muscular abdomen, and his bright eyes were filled with impish delight. "Perhaps I'm appalled at your wantonness!"

"Only for you," Draco breathed. "Don't you like knowing that you're the only man who's ever been in my arse?" Withdrawing his fingers from Snape's cock, he inserted one behind his balls, moaning in pleasure. "Doesn't it make you happy to know that I want to keep it that way?"

Snape could have wept at this slow torture. "You won't want to keep it that way once you've..."

"I have wanted you since I first found out that men could do this with each other, and you've wanted me almost as long! And now we have this! Why would I ever try to ruin that?" Arching, he pushed a second finger into his arse, contorting his face at the sensation -- showing off, Snape thought, though whether Draco's reaction was spontaneous or a performance for his benefit, it made Snape groan anyway. "I'll swear on anything you want! I'll take an Unbreakable Vow!"

Snape shuddered helplessly. The boy couldn't know what he was saying. Unbreakable Vows were particularly forbidden in the realm of romantic love; one day an uncontrollable urge blossomed into passion, and suddenly someone was dead. It would never happen to Snape, he knew -- having had this boy, he could not imagine ever looking at another -- but for Draco to offer such a commitment, when it was unnecessary...

"Untie me," Snape ordered, but Draco only shifted forward, withdrew his fingers and began to press himself down on Snape's cock. The tight little hole engulfed the head hungrily and Draco squeezed him inside, beginning to fist his own cock as he moved.

"Stop fighting," Draco cajoled. "Just admit you don't ever want to stop." The boy was absolutely maddening, sinking halfway onto Snape's cock, then lifting himself off and squeezing it in his hand, refusing to let Snape's arousal build properly even though Draco was stroking himself shamelessly. "I don't understand you. What will it take for you to be happy?"

"Besides your exceptional arse in my bed forever? Just a few little things like the Dark Lord's fall, Greyback's skin hanging over the fireplace, an end to the war, my position restored..." The boy stared, then grinned broadly at Snape as he panted. "I am happy!" he wailed, thrashing urgently to try to thrust. "I told your father I loved you and he didn't curse me! You told your father you wanted the Dark Lord gone and he didn't curse _you_! Now let me come!"

And Draco did. Draco rode him enthusiastically, bucking and squeezing and stroking himself, eventually groaning before he ejaculated -- spattering Snape's belly with hot liquid. He leaned forward and rubbed the slick white streaks into Snape's chest as he continued to move, rocking up and down, until he had watched Snape writhe and arch while Snape's cock spurted deep inside the clenching heat of Draco's body.

"I love the noises you make," Draco sighed contentedly, lying on Snape's damp chest without dislodging him. "And I love the way you keep your eyes open until the last possible second. I love the way your hips jerk and I love..."

"I love you," replied Snape irritably, to shut Draco up. It worked; Draco gave him a brilliant smile and leaned over to kiss him, unbinding Snape's wrists so he could put his arms around him.

Snape wondered why he hadn't tried saying that weeks ago.


	8. The Defeated One

"Severus! Wake up! He's dead!"

The bed heaved as a great weight fell onto it and a hand shoved Snape onto his back.

"Did you hear me? He's dead!"

"What?" demanded Snape angrily.

He had already had his sleep interrupted once...though that had been far more pleasant, when Draco had prodded him repeatedly in the arse until Snape rolled over to protest, only to be mounted the way Draco only dared to do when he was very horny and didn't want to wait for Snape to wake up properly.

Draco usually ejaculated just when Snape was really beginning to enjoy being fucked. The boy's stamina was improving, but Snape suspected that it would still be some time before he could consistently hold back his orgasm long enough to keep up with a 40-year-old man. Oddly, Snape found the practice sessions immensely enjoyable.

However, after such an intrusion at four in the morning, he was tired and had hoped to sleep late. Instead of enjoying the sight of Draco's beaming face, he was tempted to smack it with a pillow, then put the pillow over his head and try to rest.

"Well? Who is dead, and is it really important enough that you had to wake me? If you've killed Wormtail, drag the body down to the cellar and I will deal with it later."

"I didn't kill Wormtail; Lupin did," said Draco impatiently. "But that isn't very important..."

"And it isn't very amusing, either, so let me sleep!"

"Oh, well, if you don't care..." Draco's expression turned smug. "I'll just go to the victory party without you."

Now Snape knew for certain that it was all a joke. Draco knew that he couldn't leave the house. Yet the boy was getting dressed...and the bedroom door was wide open! Pettigrew could look in and see them at any moment! "Have you gone mad?" hissed Snape. "Shut the door!"

"There's no one to see us. No one cares! _Voldemort_ is dead!" Draco waved a folded parchment in front of his face. It bore the remains of a seal, though the seal had been broken. Both of their names were inscribed on the back in Lucius' elegant calligraphy, as if he'd taken for granted that his son would be sharing Snape's home.

"Give me that!" Snape skimmed the note, then skimmed it again. "Isn't it obvious that this is a forgery! Or that your father is under the Imperius curse and is trying to trick you!" Rolling his eyes, Draco handed him another letter, this one several pages of rolled parchment adorned with Narcissa Malfoy's lacy handwriting. "And this is proof! Do you honestly think both your parents..."

"Severus! If my parents had been taken, how is it possible that we could have spent the morning in bed? Why are we talking instead of being tortured? The war is over!"

It was true that if either the Death Eaters or the Ministry had taken the Malfoys and knew where Snape and Draco had been hiding, they would not be having this leisurely quarrel. Yet it was inconceivable to Snape that at the end, he had not been standing at Voldemort's side, to turn and reveal where his loyalties had lain for all these years. Was it really possible that at the moment Potter was dispatching the Dark Lord, Snape had been lying on his belly with his arse in the air, biting his pillow?

Fate could not be so absurd. "If the war is over, why haven't I been arrested?" he asked smugly. "Your parents sent these notes via ordinary owl. Our location is certainly no longer a secret. If Scrimgeour and the Ministry..."

"Obviously you didn't read my mother's note," laughed Draco. "Scrimgeour's gone. Shacklebolt's been elected in his place. And you're not going to be arrested. Seems Dumbledore left a little private message for Potter in his Pensieve collection. McGonagall found it. Know what it said? That the headmaster _ordered_ you to kill him if you thought I actually might come close to doing it. And you agreed...even before my mother came to you to ask for the Unbreakable Vow. Even Dumbledore knew you loved me!"

Snape spluttered. How mortifying! Even if the others would not have precisely the same interpretation of that event as Draco did, they would know about his sentimental attachment to Dumbledore and his promise to protect the unbearably arrogant Harry Potter. He would never be free of the Chosen One now! Instead of nobly risking his life, using his wand and his body to shield his allies, he had spent the last night of the war using his cock and his arse for his own pleasure!

And now it was over. Draco could move back in to the Malfoy mansion or return to Hogwarts to finish his education, for surely the Aurors and the Order would overlook what Draco had done if they had enough information to pardon Snape; Draco had been underage when he used an Unforgivable Curse. "Well," nodded Snape, trying to keep his face impassive. "I suppose that you'll need to pack."

"You're throwing me out?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Do you want to remain in my cellar?"

"Of course not! I want us both to get out of this place. Tonight! My parents have a flat in London; I'm sure they'll let us stay there. Or we can stay at the house in Wiltshire if you want, but won't you feel weird fucking me with my mum down the hall? I'll feel weird!"

Though Narcissa had begged Snape to take care of her little boy, he suspected that she did had not intended to include Draco's arse in the bargain. Snape found himself nodding enthusiastically. He did not think he could properly enjoy that arse in the Malfoys' home.

"I haven't even seen Mother since I've been with you. We should probably go out for a dignified meal or something. Mother and Father will want to ask you about your intentions." Was Draco mocking him? Snape narrowed his eyes. As people with a shared secret, he and Lucius had been companionable over the years, and Narcissa was friendly enough when she wanted something from him, but he had never been a member of their society and that was highly unlikely to change. "I suppose we could fix up this place," Draco was continuing, "but wouldn't you rather move away from the river and all this rot? Why don't we get a place in Hogsmeade? Then I can finish school like you want and you can go back to teaching..."

"I no longer have a position at Hogwarts," Snape reminded him icily.

"Mother said that Slughorn's retired again. One of his sycophants offered to let him use a villa in Corfu and he's already gone. I'm sure McGonagall will be happy to have you back, if the Board of Governors doesn't have her replaced with someone better suited..."

"Enough," barked Snape sharply. He would permit no criticism of Minerva -- certainly not now. "I can hardly return to teaching while having an intimate relationship with a student. It would be easiest for you to break it off now."

"Would you stop that! Fine -- you can go back to Hogwarts, and I'll have Father hire me tutors, and you can teach me Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts in private. Or, if you don't want to go back to Hogwarts, we can go somewhere else -- I don't care. Why don't we go on holiday? _We_ could go to Greece! To Olympia, and the islands..."

Snape could not bear to imagine his own pasty, wrinkled body on a beach beside a tanned young Malfoy and dozens of sun-bronzed _kouroi_. "I am not going anywhere," he said impatiently. "Why don't you get in touch with your friends? I'm sure that Nott or that Parkinson girl would be delighted to see the world with you."

Impatiently Draco flopped back on the bed, glaring up at Snape. "I don't want to see the world with them," he announced. "I want to see it with you. Though if you want to stay here, that's fine too. Even if you want to stay in this house. Will you stop looking for excuses to break up!"

"I'd rather get it over with sooner than later!"

"Fine! Then break up with me!" Crossing his arms over his chest, Draco pressed his lips together, staring up at the ceiling. When Snape did not reply, he glanced over again. "Come on! You're so determined to be rid of me. Tell me you've done your duty and now you want your life back."

Snape thought about what his life would be like, now that the war was over. It seemed as if Draco had spoken the truth -- he had been pardoned, or would be, else the Aurors would already have arrived to take him to Azkaban. It was possible that Minerva would offer to take him back at Hogwarts, the only real home Snape had ever known. Could he bear to teach there again, after what he had done? He doubted it.

He had always thought that when the war was finally over, if by some undeserved grace he escaped alive and whole, he would live quietly somewhere, selling custom medicines and perhaps writing a much-needed new Potions textbook for advanced students. He had thought that perhaps Lucius Malfoy might send business his way -- sooner or later, Snape expected Lucius to become Minister of Magic -- and he had thought it might be agreeable to visit with Minerva, Molly Weasley and others who had been generous with him when he was the least-popular member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Outstanding sex with Draco Malfoy had never factored into his plans, only his wildest fantasies. Living with a boy suffering from the temporary delusion that he wanted to pick out curtains together had not even entered Snape's imagination. While it would be pleasant enough to indulge for a time, how much the worse when, inevitably, it ended! Draco would be relieved, Lucius scornful, and everyone who knew of it would look upon Snape with pity or contempt.

A hard thump that knocked his breath out interrupted Snape's brooding. Draco had flipped over and grabbed his shoulders, pinning Snape to the bed. "What's taking you so long?" he snapped. "You wanted me out of here as fast as possible. Not having second thoughts, are you, Severus?" And as Snape was unable to reply, having been flattened by the weight of the boy on his chest, Draco leaned over and kissed him.

No one had ever kissed Snape the way Draco did, which Snape had attributed at first to Draco's youth and inexperience and his own apparent fetish for the sweetness of innocence. But in truth, Draco was a good kisser; any faults came from exuberance and ardor, not clumsiness or insensitivity. It was just that Snape had never been offered so much passion. He groaned helplessly as Draco rubbed over his cock, and his arms had gone around Draco's waist before he remembered that he had been trying to put a stop to this.

"You're not doing a very good job of throwing me out, Severus," whispered Draco, beginning to remove his clothes. "I don't know what twisted Slytherin idea you have, that if you toss Lucius Malfoy's son to the rubbish bin you'll be admired, or if you think my father will pay you to leave me alone..."

"I wouldn't take your father's money to leave you alone!" Snape interrupted indignantly.

"Good, because he's more likely to demand that you do right by me!" Draco's trouser-clad legs were pushing in on Snape's sides and creating wonderful friction over his increasingly hard cock. "He's never refused me anything I really wanted!"

All that meant, thought Snape, was that when Draco tired of him, he would lose not only Draco's affection but any benefit he might have derived from even a casual acquaintance with the Malfoys. He had no doubt that it was true, for although Lucius pushed Draco around, he doted on the boy; Lucius would never disown his only child, and Narcissa would have risked both their lives to protect him. Snape envied Draco his parents, not because they were wealthy purebloods, but because they loved him.

It was strange that a boy so adored by his family could become so confused about his feelings for Snape. Draco was tugging down his trousers, shifting his weight over Snape as he undressed. "I want you in me," he said. "And while you're fucking me, I want you to look into my eyes and use Legilimency -- I won't block you. I don't know why you don't trust me, but it's the only way you ever will."

Snape drew in a sharp breath. Draco couldn't possibly understand what he was offering. Most skilled Legilimens, even Draco's aunt Bellatrix, could only target specific memories, but Snape had always had a natural gift for mind-reading that, coupled with Dumbledore's instruction in Occlumency and selective thought retrieval, made it possible for him to intrude deeply into the thoughts of others...sometimes without their knowledge. He had not tried to betray Draco in that manner since they had become involved, but it was nearly overwhelming to do so -- to see whether what was between them was real.

Obviously Draco thought it was, or he would not be making such an offer. Was the boy old enough to be certain? There were ways of keeping the feeling, of course... Snape flinched inwardly as he realized that for a moment he had been considering using a love potion to keep Draco in his clutches.

Merlin. He did love Draco. Couldn't care that the war was over if it meant that things had to change. How had he let this happen? He might as well have handed himself over to his enemies!

"Wait," he began, but Draco had slid down and taken Snape's cock into his mouth, which made it impossible to say anything more coherent than "Ahh!" One of Draco's arms went around his waist to embrace him while the other hand stroked his balls and the base of his cock just the way Draco knew he liked.

Snape had never been with anyone else who had bothered to find out exactly what he liked, unless they were trying to use it to manipulate him. He put a hand in the smooth blond hair and stroked the cool locks between his fingers, feeling Draco tilt his neck to get more contact. The boy let Snape angle his head and fuck his mouth, continuing to hold on to him as if he were being given a gift.

Yet Snape didn't want to waste the orgasm he could feel building in his balls just to spill down Draco's throat. Withdrawing from the persistent mouth, he pulled Draco's firm young body over his own, then rolled them both over. Draco immediately spread his legs and Snape moved down -- there was no music in the world as lovely as the noises Draco made while having his arse licked. He made delightful noises while being fucked as well, but they tended to be more guttural, more explosive; when Snape was delicately licking around the pucker and inserting only the very tip of his tongue into the hot clenching tightness of Draco's arsehole, he was rewarded by breathless moans and high-pitched cries of poignant gratitude.

"Please, yes," Draco begged now, rocking his hips high in the air to give Snape access and holding his thighs apart with his hands. Snape flicked his tongue over the area several times before settling down to kiss it properly, for which he was compensated with declarations of love and several near-sobs. "Sev--ohh! Don'tmakemeleave! I'll die without this!"

"There are many others who would be happy to lick your bum," grumbled Snape softly as he reached for the slick potion he needed to pound into Draco the way he wanted. "Some of your own minions are NEWT-level arse-kissers."

"Don't want any of them. Only you. Oh please, more..." Draco tugged himself wider as Snape inserted a finger. "I love it when you talk about school. Reminds me of all the times I imagined you fucking me there. Even if we don't go back this year, can we spend one night in the dungeon, will you fuck me over your desk or order me into your private rooms and bare my bottom and not tell me whether you're going to spank me or lick me first..."

"You always were a wicked student and deserved to be disciplined!" At that, Draco let out a loud, heartfelt moan, and Snape withdrew his fingers to rub slippery gel onto his own cock. "If I take you to Hogwarts, there will be no making demands or ordering me about. As your instructor, I will gag you if you try to give me directions..."

"PLEASE!" Draco wailed again, tilting himself upward as if he could impale himself on Snape's cock at that ridiculous angle. Lying over him, Snape pushed himself inside with one firm thrust that earned him a ragged shriek. Perhaps he should have bound Draco's wrists, for Draco clawed at his back and embraced him ferociously, trying to speed his thrusts, but he found the scratching and clutching very exciting.

"Look at me," implored Draco. Forgetting everything but how good he felt, Snape looked down. Though Draco was inexperienced at Legilimency, he had enough skill to probe the surface levels of Snape's thoughts, and the instinctive shielding with which Snape retaliated gave him a glimpse of Draco's. Most of what he saw was incoherent, for near orgasm all the images in Draco's head were highly erotic, but so far as Snape could see, he featured in most of them, going back to an age when he would have considered Draco too young to have had such filthy thoughts.

It was too much, trying to sort through Draco's mental pillow book while fucking his arse and keeping his own Occlumency shields in place; with a grunt Snape thrust deep and came, feeling Draco convulse around him as the residual mental connection pushed him over the edge as well. How could Draco remain coherent enough to keep saying "I love you"? At this point he was usually screaming!

"I love you too," Draco gasped. Merlin -- _Snape_ had been saying it! His face burned as he felt Draco's arms lock around his neck in a fierce embrace. "I'll go anywhere you want, Severus. I just want to be with you. Please."

Snape nodded; he had little choice, with Draco clutching him in that stranglehold, but he was also so very tired of fighting. The war was over, he'd kept Draco safe, the Dark Lord was gone...everything had happened as Dumbledore had wished. And Dumbledore had told Snape repeatedly that love was the most important power in the world, greater than any magic.

"Yes," he agreed aloud, letting Draco kiss him. It wasn't easy to admit defeat, but, Snape reflected with lingering satisfaction, it wasn't altogether unpleasant, either.


End file.
